


nectar (the moon within my heart)

by chocchipkookie



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fashion & Couture, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Minor Choi Jongho/Song Mingi, Minor Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Sugar Daddy AU, seongjoong are rich fashionable husbands, ten cameo bc i love him, yunho is touch starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocchipkookie/pseuds/chocchipkookie
Summary: “What’s Nectar?” he asks, baffled as he stares at the half-completed information of his profile.“A dating app,” San says nonchalantly.“A sugar-daddy dating app,” Jongho clarifies, sparing Yunho from his confusion.(yunho is an exhausted student struggling to make ends meet. seonghwa and hongjoong, very much in love with each other and married, might have a solution for him.)
Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong, Jeong Yunho/Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Jeong Yunho/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 44
Kudos: 327





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~HELLO!!!~ 
> 
> this is me spreading the yunhwahong agenda! thank you all for coming to my tedtalk, now i shall never shut up about them (─‿‿─) <3  
> a few disclaimers!~  
> 1\. yunho is 24 in this, while hongjoong and seonghwa are both 29 !! big age gaps are really not my thing, so i just had to mention that since it's a trope that appears a lot in sugar daddy fics  
> 2\. with each update, more tags will be added that will be of more explicit nature, so look out for those!  
> 3\. characters (esp yunhwahong) in this story dress up in many different fashions, and that includes dresses, skirts, makeup etc. clothing has no gender anyway!  
> 4\. a HUGE thank you to taru who inspired this fic idea and has spent the last few weeks listening to me ramble and talking with me about these three boys and their shenanigans, i appreciate you so so much!! 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! enjoy!! ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

Yunho doesn’t remember whose idea it was in the first place; all he knows is that it was a decision fueled by ridiculous amounts of store-bought cocktails and tequila shots between the three of them, in between munches of what San insists is a charcuterie board, but it’s more of a mixed chopped mess of leftovers from the communal kitchen of their floor. 

“Give me my phone back,” Yunho sighs, extending his arm but making no effort to actually stop Wooyoung from messing around. The aftertaste of the strong drinks are making him too woozy to complain. 

“You have an entire separate folder for dating apps, surely there’s no harm in creating another profile,” San reasons, helping himself to some more cheese and crackers. “Oh, choose this one, he looks very sexy in that one.” 

Yunho sighs, slumping against the bed - his friends are feeling much more energetic than he is, so he’ll let them play around with his personal information and social media presence. That seems like a good idea. 

“Okay,” Wooyoung speaks after finally selecting a few pictures for Yunho’s display profile, sipping some more from his bottled mojito, “Help me fill these in. Interested in…” 

“Anyone.” 

“No gender specification,” his friend mumbles, thumbing away on his phone, “Age, okay. Height, okay. Weight?” 

“You really think I can remember that right now?” 

“These are so specific,” Jongho furrows his brows, pouting, “I use  _ Pulse _ and they never ask for that kind of stuff.” 

“That’s different, this app operates more like a means for a transaction,” Wooyoung explains, shooing him with his hand. “Occupation?” 

“Huh? Student of course,” Yunho yawns. San recently got him these cute LED lights that change color and he spent one whole afternoon taping them all around his walls - the dim purple light they’re emanating right now is slowly lulling him to sleep, and his best friends’ soft chatter sounds more and more like a pleasant lullaby. 

“Part-time jobs? Internships?” 

“Uh…” Yunho starts, “Wait, what? Are you really supposed to include  _ everything _ in your bio? That seems too much…” 

“How are you supposed to get matched with someone who will fulfill your financial needs?” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunho finally jumps from the bed, landing messily on top of Wooyoung on the carpet and wrestling him, holding down his legs with his own thighs in an attempt to grab his phone from his best friend’s little gremlin hands, “What’s  _ Nectar? _ ” he asks, baffled as he stares at the half-completed information of his profile. 

“A dating app,” San says nonchalantly. 

“A  _ sugar-daddy _ dating app,” Jongho clarifies, sparing Yunho from his confusion. 

“Hey, it’s not limited to just sugar daddies,” Wooyoung defends himself, “You can find all sorts of people there who are rich and want to financially help someone for  _ something _ in exchange.” 

Yunho’s eyes scan the information that Wooyoung has already put in - name, height, weight, occupation, a few pictures from his camera roll that are thankfully decent and not overly sexual. All that’s left are the ‘Interests’ and ‘Links’ boxes. The design of the app is admittedly very sleek, with beautiful graphics in deep colors in dark mode and golden details. This could have very well looked gaudy at best, but the appearance of the application makes Yunho stop wrestling Wooyoung and slump back on the floor, phone in hand. 

“So, what? You match with someone and they pay you each time you have sex?” 

“Who said you  _ have _ to have sex?” says Wooyoung, “Not everyone wants sex. Some people are looking for simple companionship, like coffee dates and stuff. Or a gym partner. Or you might never even have to meet them, just text or send pictures. You customize your interests and then the algorithm shows you profiles who are looking for similar conditions to yours.” 

“Who would pay for a gym partner?” Yunho grimaces. “Like, generally speaking, why would someone hand their money out to strangers?” 

“I don’t know, maybe they’re consumed by capitalistic guilt from being rich,” Wooyoung reasons. 

“What’s the name of the app?” Jongho mutters, already pulling out his phone, “I’m a little short on cash this month for rent.” 

“Please tell me you’re gonna send feet pics to someone,” San asks, dissolving in hysterics from his own joke. 

While Jongho affectionately keeps San in a chokehold in the background, Wooyoung approaches him, looping his arms around Yunho from the back and pushing his face into the crook of his neck, “We can delete it, y’know,” his friend murmurs, “Don’t get anxious about it.” 

Yunho doesn’t respond immediately, scrolling up and down his profile, “How did you even find out about this?” 

“Well, Yubin made a profile last month because a friend of a friend of hers recommended the app - it’s supposed to be super safe, and the money transfering aspect is great too. She’s texting like, three people at the same time.” 

His eyes bulge out, “You can date multiple people at the same time?!” 

“I told you, it’s not necessarily dating. You don’t go into it expecting a regular relationship. If you agree with this person that you’ll be exclusive as long as your agreement lasts, that’s fair. But everyone makes their own terms and conditions.” 

“You know suspiciously lots of stuff about this.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “‘S not my fault, she explained everything to me. She knew I’d be worried about her, so she sat me down and talked me through it.” 

Yunho’s doubts begin to disappear like an early morning fog in the sun; Yubin is very independent in her own right, and Wooyoung and his friends have known her for years. Even when she and Wooyoung dated for a short while, or the few times her and Yunho had hooked up after parties in their first year of university, she always put their friendship above everything else. 

He moves on to the next box he’s supposed to fill in: ‘Interests’. 

“What’s a  _ provider? _ ” he squints. 

“The one who gives the sugar,” Jongho explains, stroking San’s hair while the older has his head on his lap, an expression of cat-like happiness on his face. 

“And the  _ receiver _ is the person who gets paid,” Yunho completes his sentence. 

“They’re using gender neutral terms, that’s cool,” San mumbles, “You’re the  _ receiver _ in this case, Yunho-yah.” 

“Okay, this is important, are you interested in sexual relationships?” Wooyoung asks. 

“Uh, yeah?” Yunho replies, ears turning red instantly, “I mean-” he cannot fully explain it, but the truth is that he likes sex. A lot. He loves it. But juggling his studies and an attempt at some sort of a social life takes a toll on you after one point, and he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, which, combined with the fruity drinks he’s been consuming all night, makes his most base desires scheme together to cloud his judgement. “Like a one night stand?” 

“Or casual sex,” Wooyoung offers, “I’m gonna add that you’re interested in sex and you can change that whenever you want.” 

They spend the next few minutes finalizing Yunho’s profile - San offers one-line suggestions here and there, but he’s mostly occupied with nosing into Wooyoung’s cheek like a newborn woodland animal, whining to Jongho to get some ice-cream from the fridge. Soon enough, their friend comes back to Yunho’s dorm room and the tub of strawberry cheesecake is set on the floor, the four mismatched spoons in their respective hands. They dig into the dessert absent-mindedly, the cool air emanating from the plastic container tickling their ankles. 

Wooyoung presses ‘Complete’ and waits while the app’s algorithm finds similar profiles to Yunho’s interests. 

“Okay!” he announces once they’re back to the main screen, “First up we have this fella, 45 years old, owns a telecommunications company, interested in young men; wants to spend the weekends together at his sea-side mansion-” 

“How do we know he’s not just lying on his profile?” Jongho points out, suddenly fueled by the creamy ice cold dessert. 

“He looks creepy,” San murmurs. 

“He kinda does,” Yunho agrees, and watches as Wooyoung’s finger swipes up. 

One profile after the other, the four of them pick apart the information in each new candidate, trying to guess if they’re faking it or not. Most of the users seem older than him by more than fifteen years, and Yunho can’t help but grimace at the idea. He only becomes interested when their profile pictures look cute, but nothing’s enough to make him heart the person’s profile or hit them up in the dms. Time passes like this, until their metallic spoons hit against the empty bottom of the plastic tub and the light of his phone screen starts making him dizzy. 

Before he gets the chance to ask his friends to call it quits because his battery percentage is screaming at him to charge his phone, Wooyoung swipes up. 

“Is that a joint profile?” Jongho asks, half laughing and half genuinely curious. 

_ “Kim-Park,” _ San reads out, “Oh, they look-” 

“They’re way younger than anybody else on this app,” Wooyoung chuckles, touching the ‘see more’ option in their photos section. 

Their profile picture is definitely from a photoshoot - it’s in black and white, and they’re lying on the ground of some studio in casual clothes. The first one is settled cozily in the other’s arms, his fuller lips curling into a reserved smile. The second one who’s hugging him has a more neutral expression, but his chin is nestled warmly on the crown of the other’s head, lips almost planting a soft kiss there. Swiping, the next ones are solo pictures of each other that are definitely not professionally taken, near artsy graffiti walls, cafes and street markets. Their entire profile looks like a Pinterest board that Yunho would longingly stalk in bed, wide awake, two hours before his alarm is supposed to ring. 

“What does their profile say?” Yunho asks tentatively, curling his knees towards his chest and pushing his head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, “Stop  _ squealing, _ let me see-”

“I’m ticklish there, you idiot!” he cackles in return. He clears his throat and begins reading their bio,  _ “We’re Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa - we’ve been husbands for two years and partners for eight-”  _

“Wait, how old are they?” Jongho asks. 

“Both of them turned 29 this year,” says Wooyoung, brows furrowing, “They’ve been together for a  _ while, _ that’s a first.” 

“Supposing this isn’t someone giving out fake information,” Jongho reminds them. 

_ “We’re looking for someone who would like to keep one of us company while the other is away, but also spend time with us as a couple, too. The two of us are a package, so unfortunately a receiver cannot have one without the other. Sexual relations can be discussed after the first encounters, depending on the receiver’s intentions towards us.” _

“Well, I appreciate that one of them isn’t using this app to cheat on his partner,” says San, “But I figure not many people here would approach them.” 

“Why not?” asks Yunho, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible as he swipes through the pictures, zooming into the details. They look so happy in all of them, the colors of their clothes blending into the vivid backgrounds and creating something akin to a mural that’s full of life and adventure in the hidden corners of a busy city. There are no photos to showcase any details about their occupations or their work lives. It’s most likely purposeful, to protect their identities - they do state that they hold high positions in the companies they work in; founder and CEO respectively. 

“Well, who would want to get in between a married couple?” San wonders, “Obviously, this is a bit different, but still. And many people seek out one singular, celibate provider on these apps, usually.” 

“Our Yunho-yah here is a different breed,” Wooyoung announces with gloat and pride, “Wanna hit them up? They look like they’d be fun at parties.” 

Yunho hesitates for a moment. With the rest of his friends there, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of the night with anxious fingers hovering over the keyboard when he’s supposed to be having fun with his friends. 

At the look of hesitation that takes over his features, Jongho steps in, “Or you can like their profile now and hit them up later or another day.” 

“Mmm, so you can see when they like you back,” San agrees. 

Wooyoung hands him his phone with a ceremonious ruffle to his hair and a smile. Yunho presses the pulsing silver heart on the side of their profile, watching it turn red. 

He leaves his phone in the kitchen for the remainder of the night, forgetting all about the  _ ‘Kim-Park’ _ profile with the help of fruity alcohol and the company of his best friends. 

  
  


♥ 

  
  


It’s not until later next day, while he’s trying his best to cook some dinner for himself (that’s a first) instead of ordering take-out once again and draining his bank account even more, even though he has no idea how long you’re supposed to saute mushrooms for and has added way too much salt in the broth, that his phone  _ pings  _ with a  _ Nectar _ -related notification. 

_ ‘‘Kim-Park’ has liked your profile! Tap here to connect with them.’  _

“Okay,” he says out loud, but he’s alone in the kitchen. He could text Wooyoung, since he’s the one who got him into this mess in the first place. He could ignore the notification, delete the app altogether and go on his merry way with his vegetable soup that could definitely use a stirring right about now. He takes one look at his lockscreen before he puts it down on the counter, holding onto the ladle like a religious ornament protecting him from temptation. 

There’s logically no reason he should be feeling this jittery about this, yet here is, jumping as his phone pings again. 

_ ‘‘Kim-Park’ has sent you a message! Tap here for more.’  _

His soup bubbles dangerously as it boils, the heat making his face flush a reddish pink color that matches his blushing ears, for entirely different reasons. He takes his phone and unlocks it, waiting for the app to load. In the ‘Notifications’ tab, there’s a few users who have pressed likes on his profile - older women and men, more than he ever expected, and the attention he seems to have garnered stirs something in his tummy. He pointedly avoids sifting through their profiles and liking back. Instead, he tentatively taps on the message pop-up that takes him directly to their conversation. 

**[Kim-Park]:** Hello, this is Seonghwa! 

**[Jeong]:** Hi I’m Yunho!

**[Kim-Park]:** This is Hongjoong, hi there! We text from different devices since we share the profile :) 

**[Jeong]:** That’s fine

He chews on his lip, one hand stirring his lunch and the other hovering over the keyboard with his thumb. 

**[Jeong]:** I don’t know if I should warn you but this is my first time making an account on an app like this 

**[Jeong]:** But I’ve had accounts on other dating apps so yeah

The torturous seconds he spends looking at the typing bubble feel more like a century before he finally gets a reply. He was honestly expecting a rejection or for them to brush it off, but surprisingly the message is almost sweet-sounding. 

**[Kim-Park]:** That’s perfectly fine! It is our first time trying out something like this, but hopefully we can work something out if you’re interested! -S 

Someone comes into the kitchen from their dorm room and Yunho pushes his phone in his back pocket, guilt overtaking him as if his fellow student can take one look at him and guess he’s talking with strangers on the internet. The guy takes one look at the fridge before he decidedly grabs a fizzy drink and then retreats to his room, fortunately not taking any of Yunho’s precious ice-tea that he has so carefully labeled with his name on a post-it note. He pours the experimental concoction he calls a ‘soup’ into a bowl and takes it back to the safety of his room, after rinsing off the pot. 

**[Jeong]:** I am, I just have a lot of questions about this and not sure how to go about it 

**[Kim-Park]:** Admittedly there’s lots of things to talk about, so you can ask us questions. Nothing is off-limits of course, so don’t be shy. -H 

He’s so lost in his thoughts about what this relationship could possibly entail, the nature of it and how he cannot avoid talking about the potential complications - this isn’t similar to any kind of flirting or relationship or casual sex he’s participated in before. There’s money involved, and he can’t help but hesitate at how he’s supposed to approach the subject. Surely, this couple has a profile on this app because they’re in  _ search _ of a sugar baby. They want to potentially pay for his needs, that’s what providers are  _ supposed _ to do, right? Is he supposed to just  _ ask  _ for it? How open can he be about his financial situation? He’s never even asked for a raise from his part-time jobs because who does that anyway? 

Explaining all of that through texts already creates an anxious feeling in his stomach - he’s too sensitive and the slightest change in tone will make him spiral. 

Thankfully, when he looks at the chat once again, they’ve sent him another text. 

**[Kim-Park]:** Would it make you feel better if we met in person? No pressure, of course. But meeting each other would definitely make things less awkward :) -H 

**[Kim-Park]:** But also please don’t feel pressured to meet us. If you want to go forward with an arrangement like this only through text, that’s perfectly fine as well. We don’t ever have to meet, and we’ll never pressure you to do so if you don’t wish to. -S 

**[Jeong]:** Meeting each other would be nice I think 

**[Jeong]:** :) 

  
  
  


♥ 

  
  


His friends find out about his plans, and to say the least they’re particularly  _ overjoyed. _

“No more cup ramen for dinner!” Wooyoung exclaims in triumph, raising his bottled water in the air as if it’s golden, sparkly champagne. They’re in the dance studio, taking a break and cooling off on the floor. 

Yunho tries not to squirm as he stretches out his legs, head pushing against his calf and feeling the burn on the underside of his thigh. Although it’s a true fact that their diet is shitty because of little free time and limited funds, he still cannot fully grasp the idea of asking someone to pay for his needs, even if it’s an arrangement catering specifically to him. He hasn’t even met the couple yet - Wooyoung is already getting ideas and boasting about it, as he always does. 

San helps Yunho stretch even more by pushing gently on his back, letting Yunho lean forwards until his torso is approaching the wooden floor, legs spread on each side and ending in pointed toes. “When’s your date?” he asks gently. 

“At the end of the week,” Yunho replies. The three of them had agreed on going at a sleek, jazz bar-restaurant, nothing too excessive on their part - although Yunho had already spent an unnecessary amount of time looking at pictures of their destination on Google and gulping at the sight of how  _ expensive _ everything looked, from the plates to the silverware to the decor to even the plates themselves; he wasn’t sure if it was photo-editing or simply  _ money _ that made this restaurant’s dishes look so appealing. Perhaps his empty stomach was at fault. 

“You’re nervous,” San observes, “Don’t be. I know it’s weird, but some people make a living out of this.” 

“Sugar-babying?” Yunho asks, wincing at the stretch of his back. The word feels weird in his mouth. The cold floor against his cheek feels relieving enough, however. “I just - I have no idea how to approach this.” 

“Well, your goal is to have fun and get money. Their goal is to have fun and give you money. As long as you stay within your boundaries and don’t overstep them, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Sannie’s right,” Wooyoung slides across the floor, crossing his legs and settling next to them, “Also, I’d much rather see you worry about what you’re going to wear than see you sulk because you’re anxious about this, Yunho-yah.” 

At that moment, their instructor comes back and asks them to get into position as she looks for the appropriate track on her phone. The music fills the room with its thumping bass, and Yunho gets lost as he always does when he’s dancing; letting his mind drift away from technical thoughts and overwhelming overthinking. His body has a mind of its own, limbs stretching in intricate poses, following the rhythm as if the music is being produced from his pulsing insides. 

When the track finally reaches his climax and comes to an end, Yunho sits still in the final pose their instructor has given them, and once she claps her hands he slumps onto the ground, chest rising and falling rapidly with each panting breath, adrenaline ringing in his ears.

All of his days are similar to each other - he has a hectic schedule of classes on contemporary dance, which is his major. Combined with that, he also attends hip-hop classes three times a week, as well as compulsory academic classes that plague his very existence and force him to pull all-nighters in order to finish the multitude of essays and small projects he’s due every week. 

As a result, his body takes the brunt of his academic pursuits, and it’s more than often the case that he overworks himself to the point of exhaustion, his aching body jittery and fueled by caffeine even if he’s ready to fall asleep. Rarely does he get the time or the extra money to cook for himself, and managing his finances is something he doesn’t particularly excel in. 

It feels like he’s giving himself excuses for getting into this - and he hasn’t even gone to their first date. 

  
  


♥

  
  


Surprisingly enough, he forgets all about it until the day of his date. 

He’s painfully reminded of it with a cheerful text from his… potential boyfriends? Business partners?  _ Sugar daddies, they’re your sugar daddies, _ Wooyoung would say. 

**[Kim-Park]:** Good morning, Yunho! How are things? :) -H 

Yunho jumps out of his bed like someone dropped an ice-cube inside the collar of his shirt - it’s Saturday morning, the day he’s supposed to meet the married couple for the first time, and he’s already slept in past his alarm. He has approximately five hours before he has to get to the station to catch his train. 

**[Jeong]:** Good morning! I’m very well, just woke up actually 

**[Kim-Park]:** Very happy about that, then. Is our date still happening? -S 

**[Jeong]:** Yes of course 

**[Jeong]:** I’m supposed to take the blue line, right? 

They text him specifications and send a screenshot of the trains’ timetable. They had already agreed upon meeting at the station and then walking the short 5 minute distance to the restaurant. Thankfully, not one of them had mentioned a car ride or insisted on picking up Yunho from his residence, and that makes him feel a bit calmer for the time being. 

That’s not to say that he isn’t once again jittery with anxiousness; he downs the stale iced americano that definitely classifies as lukewarm now from his bedside table and almost gets up from the bed, until his phone pings again with a calendar notification of all things.

An essay that he has no memory of ever hearing about in class. But the reminder is there, and the due date is in  _ three hours. _

“Fuck me.” 

His head falls on his pillow and successfully muffles his anguish of a dance major cursed to attend obligatory classes on language and writing. 

Yunho curls like a turtle into the shell that is his bed, warm laptop vibrating against his thighs, typing away what seems like unintelligible jargon - he has to read his source articles multiple times before he can finally concentrate and understand the point. He imports pictures that mess up the layout of his text multiple times, but he stops himself from committing any sort of property damage on his electronics because he has  _ no _ time, and no money to repair them. Once again bullshitting his way out of this essay, he sends it in with a haste spell check and immediately jumps from his bed - his phone now says 6:59, two hours before he’s supposed to meet up with a  _ lawfully wedded _ couple, and that includes his train ride. 

As always, he’s forgotten to do his laundry, so his options are limited; mismatched clothes that definitely don’t make a coherent outfit fit enough for a fancy outing. He pulls clothes out of his closet, piling them up on his bed as if the perfect two-piece will magically appear in front of him. Time passes quickly without making any progress, and so Yunho does the one thing he didn’t wish to resort to. 

_ “Wait, today’s your sugar daddy date?”  _ Wooyoung screams through the phone, but Yunho thankfully has him on speaker mode on his desk as he searches through his drawers,  _ “You should have told me to come by earlier, I’m out for drinks now…” _

“I can hear that,” Yunho sighs at the bubbly background noise coming from Wooyoung. “Oh no, I need to shower!” 

_ “Uh, yeah? I hope you do. Where are they taking you anyways?”  _

“Some fancy jazz restaurant… I need to wear nice clothes, but-” 

_ “You could literally show up in anything and you’d look good, Yunho-yah,”  _ Wooyoung coddles him, and his voice takes that very specific tone he uses when he feels like his friend is down in the dumps with his appearance and needs a pick-me-up. And Yunho loves getting complimented, but his problems are of a more practical nature currently. But Wooyoung continues to rant away, showering him with compliments,  _ “...Like, who wouldn’t find you attractive? Have you seen your legs and how shapely they are? You should wear that skirt more often-” _

“Skirt.” Yunho says out loud, letting Wooyoung’s voice fade into the background while his hands dig into his closet. 

He remembers thrifting it a year ago while accompanying Jongho who was looking for some vintage boots - the skirt had been discarded to the side, black satin fabric with a straight, slim fit. The hem of it reaches the middle of his calves, but there’s a slit over his right leg that stops just a little over his knee. There’s a few stray threads hanging from the bottom and a few sequins missing from the small butterfly design on the back of it, just over his butt - but the moment he saw it, it had made him so happy that Yunho rushed into the changing room to try it on. 

It was his after that, an item of clothing that he’d grown so attached to but ultimately had worn only a few times outside, in parties and coffee shops. It had been a while since he’d had enough time to sort out his clothes and unearth this treasure from the deep wells of his dorm room. 

“I think I got dressed,” he calls out to his phone. 

_ “Nice! Did you shower first?” _

“Fuck.” 

  
  
  


♥

  
  
  


Yunho barely manages to catch his train on time; in the end he’s forced to stand because there aren’t any seats available. The fluorescent lights glow a freezing white color, and he’s able to look at his reflection on the opposite window while he listens to his workout playlist. He can see the shine of the reflective material of his tights that peek underneath the skirt, since it is too cold to forego them. The skirt fits him like a glove, opening up at the bottom just enough for his legs to walk easily in his leather shoes. He opted for an old mock-neck bodysuit that he’s worn for dance competitions as a top - the material is a dark grey, almost glittering fabric that’s thin enough to almost sculpt his upper body, accentuating the curves of his muscles on his chest and arms. His leather jacket provides enough warmth for now, although he’s not sure how he’ll fare once he’s out of the train. 

He doesn’t get intimidated easily, but this time, he has both Wooyoung and San on alert in case something goes wrong, i.e. the whole filthy rich married couple looking to throuple is a scam and he gets creeped out. 

_ “Anything happens, you call me and I’m ready to drop-kick a bitch.” _ San had told him over the phone, voice exuding intimidation and love at the same time. 

He squeezes his cross-body bag closer to his stomach with both hands, trying to take up as little space as possible in the cramped train. 

A small part of him, the one that’s still stuck in his childhood and views everything through pink-tinted glasses, hopes that this won’t be a failure. He’s looked over their profile a few times now while waiting for the time to pass - they seem simply too good to be true. Yunho just wishes he didn’t dress up for nothing. 

He hasn’t thought about what he’s going to tell them; he has to remind himself that this isn’t a normal date, by any means. 

The train finally arrives at its destination, and he holds onto the railing as his body is pushed forwards against his will. He waits until a substantial amount of people have squished themselves through the exits before he, too, makes his way outside, boots clicking against the gravel. 

They’re waiting at the top of the stairs, just outside of the station. 

Yunho notices them, of course, because they look  _ nothing _ like the rest of the people hastily moving up and down the staircase. They stand close to each other, bodies almost engulfed in an embrace and heads moving gently in tandem with a soft, hushed, private conversation that isn’t supposed to be heard by anyone else outside of their little bubble. Their noses bump as they share a tender kiss, before going back to conversing. 

Yunho feels like an intruder. 

He holds onto his bag as if he’ll lose his balance - he’s frozen, rigid in the middle of the staircase as people push against his shoulder and rush past him. He can’t help it - he’s too enthralled to look away, yet he knows that if he keeps staring at them like this, from far away, the growing dark cloud in his stomach will only get darker. 

No one else seems to pay attention to the loving couple - is he the only one who’s affected like this, by two strangers he’s never met? 

Not bearing to look at their faces any longer, his eyes move downwards - they’re both dressed impeccably, simple but expensive fabrics in dark colors, gleaming jewelry catching the reflections of the street lights in the night. 

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize that the couple has noticed him - they offer small smiles, trying to decipher if he’s the one they’re waiting for. 

Yunho takes a deep breath, stuttering as he exhales. 

“You must be Yunho,” the taller one with the round glasses says, voice deep and smooth with a honey-like vibrato, “I’m glad you could make it. I’m Seonghwa.” 

“I’m Hongjoong,” the shorter one smiles at him, voice more mousey and teasing. 

“Yuh, I’m Yunho, that’s me,” he offers a smile as well, giddy at the realization that he hasn’t been scammed for the time being. “Hope I didn’t make you wait for long.” 

“Not at all,” Seonghwa says with ease. He’s just a little shorter than Yunho, deep brown eyes studying his features, “You’re beautiful.” 

Yunho catches the whimper that almost leaves his throat at the last minute, holding his breath. Next to him, Hongjoong lets out a laugh, “Excuse my husband, he’s very upfront and honest. But he never lies; pictures don’t do you justice, Yunho.” 

“Thank you,” he breathes out, happy with himself that his voice didn’t tremble. It’s absurd, being affected by someone’s words like this - Yunho has always been sensitive to praise and kind words. It started out as a side-effect of being a bright, ‘gifted’ child in elementary school, and developed into a  _ kink _ when he had proper sex for the first time. “You, uhm, you both look good.” 

“Just  _ good? _ ” Hongjoong laughs gently, “I was aiming for something more exciting. I guess I have to work harder to impress you, then.” The snark rolls off his tongue like ringlets of intoxicating smoke, and he’s so close to Yunho, looking up at him through mascara-coated lashes and dark, shimmering grey shadow circling his eyes. 

“Are you hungry?” Seonghwa asks before Yunho can scramble to apologize out of sheer sexual intimidation, “The place I booked us a table at is just around the corner. Let’s not stand in the cold any longer, mm?” 

He nods, not trusting himself enough to speak. 

The walk is no more than two minutes long, but he ends up in between the couple - with Hongjoong and Seonghwa on either side of him, their warmth is enough to coddle his cold, pink cheeks. They make small talk about the train ride while entering a tall, glass building that houses multiple stores, cafes and karaoke bars, and head straight for the elevator, which will take them to the highest floor. 

“The view from up there is stunning,” Seonghwa tells him over the generic elevator music that does just enough to fill in the awkward silence. There’s eight people with them in there, and Yunho is just conveniently squished in between the couple once again. Their stance is almost protective over him. “We haven’t been here in a while, have we?” he asks Hongjoong. Under the fluorescent lights, Seonghwa’s eyelids sparkle with the tiniest hint of peach gold. 

“No, it’s been a while,” his husband agrees. 

The restaurant,  _ ‘Twilight’ _ , is located at the top of the skyscraper - jazz instrumentals filter smoothly from the speakers, matching the dim lighting and the deep colors of the decor; oak, dark green and golden accents. The gentle sound of customers talking and cutlery softly clinking against porcelain immediately makes Yunho feel serene. Everyone’s dressed in fine clothing, but it’s certainly nothing excessively luxurious - Yunho doesn’t feel underdressed for the occasion or uncomfortable for the time being. It certainly wouldn’t be his first choice if it were his decision solely based on what he can guess can be the price range, but that’s fine. He’s a student living off of convenience store food and cheap take-out, his standards are already low as they are. 

The maitre d’ brings them to their table that’s positioned right next to the window, the dark sea of the cityscape spreading across the distance from their view. The yellowish lights litter the city like clusters of stars - a city that doesn’t intend on sleeping no matter how late it gets. 

He sits down after Hongjoong helps him take off his coat and pulls out his chair for him to take his seat, cheeks burning. While the waiter fills their glasses with water and hands them their menus, he takes in his dates’ appearances from up close. 

Hongjoong takes off his Montgomery coat, revealing a black turtleneck and a few layered silver chain necklaces resting on his chest. He pushes a few strands of dark hair behind his ear, and now Yunho can see that his mullet is overgrown the length he had in the photos on their profile. It curls around his neck, tied in a small braid that reaches just past his collarbone on his right side. 

Seonghwa, on his side, is wearing a deep, V-neck purple mesh top that shimmers underneath the dim lighting, accentuating his golden, pronounced chest. Pearl earrings hang from his ears, and the man plays with them absentmindedly as he thanks the waiter.

Every piece of  _ them _ belongs  _ here. _

“-Yunho?” Hongjoong’s voice brings him back to reality, “Have you picked out anything? We can order our drinks first and then take our time with the food.” 

“Uh,” Yunho opens the drinks’ menu, eyes moving fast to catch something that might tickle his fancy. He’s more of a cocktail person anyway, but the cocktails’ section has weird names and he fails to come up with an answer in the next minute or so, “I’m not sure.” 

“What type of drinks do you like?” Hongjoong leans forward, their shoulders bumping together. Yunho’s heart skips a beat, “I can help you out.” 

“Fruity, I guess?” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, “I like light and fruity stuff.” 

He hears Hongjoong mumble  _ ‘Cute’ _ under his breath and his ears get positively cherry-colored. 

He ends up with a raspberry and rum based cocktail that has a vibrant fuschia color - Hongjoong gets a glass of wine, and Seonghwa opts for a non-alcoholic drink, “I’m the one driving this time,” he clarifies with a charming smile. 

After they finally place their orders, Hongjoong brings his hands to rest under his chin, regarding Yunho with a curious smile, “So, Yunho, you’re in university?” 

Yunho nods, gulping down more of his drink for good measure and a shot of bravery, “Yeah, um, yes. I’m in my third year right now. Dance major,” he blushes when he sees Seonghwa’s eyes open wider in surprise, like they hold entire galaxies in them, “I am a contemporary dancer first, but I also do hip-hop.” 

“Seonghwa used to dance ballet when he was younger,” Hongjoong says proudly. Yunho’s eyes fix on the hand Hongjoong places on his husband’s thigh, how his fingers stroke over the fabric of his pants, his black nail polish glinting. 

“I took some ballet classes when I was little, too,” Yunho admits, “Ultimately, I was more drawn to contemporary.” 

“So you’re pursuing your dream of becoming a dancer?” Seonghwa says encouragingly. 

“More or less,” Yunho chuckles nervously. He hesitates to say the next words, but he figures that since they’re getting to know each other with the goal of forming a transactional relationship, there’s no harm to tell them, “I originally entered another university for finance and business management, but I really couldn’t keep doing it. I hated it, to be honest.”

It’s the first time he’s ever admitted that to someone; even after the multiple fights with his parents, he’d never been so blunt about how much he hated that period of his life. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s the way Hongjoong and Seonghwa listen to him; attentively, never taking their eyes off of him. 

“B-but now it’s way better,” he assures them, “That was a few years ago anyway. What do you guys do?” 

Hongjoong looks like he wants to ask more questions, but ultimately he lets it go, “I’m a fashion designer. I worked in the creative departments of local brands, tried my shot at haute couture and ultimately created my own company and brand with my husband here.” 

“I’m nowhere near the clothes,” Seonghwa clarifies, taking a sip from his drink, “CEO and financial advisor Park Seonghwa at your service.” 

“If it wasn’t for him, this company would honestly plummet to the ground,” Hongjoong jokes, but Seonghwa takes his hand and squeezes it, tenderly stroking the skin. 

“No it wouldn’t,” he pouts, “Don’t say that, my love.” 

_ My love. _

“I’m just exaggerating,” Hongjoong brushes him off, turning around to Yunho and shooting him a wink, “I’m an artistic soul, I don’t know how math works.” 

“Ah, me neither,” Yunho offers, taking another swing from his drink, “I’m really bad with savings. My friends always nag me that I need to take better care of my finances, but jokes on them because we all end up splitting the bill on groceries.” 

The rum is now swimming freely in his tummy, and it’s making him ramble like he always does when he’s nervous, eyes averting the couples’ gaze. Fingers tapping on his glass, he looks outside towards the city lights. “I don’t even want to think about my student loans, I haven’t visited the department in a while now….” he mumbles to himself. 

Silence falls across the table. Seonghwa clears his throat, “Yunho dear - is that something you’d like us to help you with? We can definitely do that.” 

Instantly, Yunho panics, “Ah! No, no, not at all. I’m just-” he sighs, rubbing at his temples. He really should have waited for his food to arrive before downing his cocktail. Who offers to pay for someone’s student debt on the first date anyway? Park Seonghwa does, apparently. 

“I just think that that is something that’s my responsibility. I don’t want other people meddling with it. I’m sorry if that’s rude-” 

“It’s not rude at all!” Hongjoong assures him, “We’re practically strangers, we’re not entitled to know your financial situation, Yunho. We’re not going to forcefully meddle with parts of your life that you don’t want us to. That’s just wrong.” 

“We can establish boundaries,” Seonghwa says, “Talk about the ways we could help you, if you want to meet again, that is. It’s a two-way arrangement - you obviously get something in return.” 

Yunho gulps, nervously digging his nails into the pads of his fingers under the table. He’s not a confrontational person. He hates asking for help more than anything, especially when it comes to things like this. But the two of them seem eager to help him, at least they seem honest enough about it. But he’s so confused, so out of the loop with how an arrangement like this could work. 

“Can I be honest with you guys?” his voice is barely a mumble, but they both nod. “I-I have no idea what I’m doing here. My friends thought it would be fun to create a profile for me on this app, but I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how it works. I don’t - I don’t really know what I want.” 

Their expressions are hard to read, but they don’t look mad at least. His chest trembles with each breath, “I don’t know what I could give someone, and I don’t know what I would wish for in return. I don’t want help with my student loans - I just, I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” Hongjoong sounds soft, like the warm crackle of a fireplace, “That’s fine, that’s totally fine. If you want to not go through with this date-” 

“No, I-” Yunho feels his throat swell with unshed tears, and he’s so nervous, “I’m here because - well, because I’m attracted to you. And maybe, maybe I want to try this out. I just don’t know what to do.” 

“That’s okay,” Seonghwa reassures him, “It’s a first for us too, you know. And we’re attracted to you, too, you know.” 

Yunho’s cheeks burn like he’s on fire. 

Saving him from his embarrassment, the waiter finally arrives with their food; a few small plates in the center with entrees and salad, and their respective main dishes in front of each one of them. 

Yunho finds himself with a hefty plate of slices of roasted stuffed meat and warm sweet potatoes that smell like heaven. “Go on, dig in, it’s delicious,” Hongjoong smiles at him. 

And so, the conversation is put on hold for the sake of their dinner - Yunho carefully cuts a piece of juicy, warm meat and puts it in his mouth. 

And almost tears up. 

It’s scalding on his tongue but he doesn’t care; the flavors that burst on his tongue, the warmth that fills his entire body as he chews and swallows - he hasn’t eaten an actual meal like this in years, something that reminds him of when he was little. He’s been living off of store-bought snacks, coffee and energy drinks and he knows it’s  _ stupid _ and  _ insignificant _ but he just wishes he could have enough time and money to spend on groceries without having to cut corners. 

There’s so many thoughts in his mind that it overwhelms him, and he falls exceptionally quiet as he eats his dinner, savoring every bite. 

“Does it taste good?” Seonghwa leans closer, sweet perfume pulling Yunho in. 

A comforting hand settles on Yunho’s back, large palm rubbing the small of his back. 

It feels so  _ good, _ this touch, the attention Seonghwa is giving him, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s a very touchy person who’s always craved hands-on affection, or because he’s secretly longed for something like this for a while now. Whatever the case is, Yunho trembles, nodding and pushing more food into his mouth. 

“D’you want a dumpling?” Hongjoong speaks up, and when Yunho turns towards him he’s already holding a steaming one between his chopsticks in the air, ready to deposit it on Yunho’s plate, “Hey, they look just like you,” he giggles, one polished finger booping his cheek. 

Yunho is going to melt right there, like fondue cheese, on the table, in this expensive fucking restaurant, forever stripped from his dignity. 

“It’s all so tasty,” he whispers. Hongjoong and Seonghwa sigh happily and let him finish his dish in silence, listening to the background jazz music and the ambience of chatter. 

It’s not until they’ve ordered dessert that they pick up the conversation again, “M-maybe,” he starts, playing around with his spoon in the piece of warm apple pie and ice cream they’re sharing, “Perhaps, I could, um.” 

Hongjoong thankfully catches on quickly, “You can ask for anything, you can tell us. Whatever you feel comfortable with, Yunho.” 

He tries to explain his jumbled thoughts from earlier as best as he can to them, and the couple listens to him, nodding along. They don’t judge him one bit when he explains that what he struggles with are the simple things, the insignificant small details of everyday life that manage to bring him down and even make it hard to get out of bed sometimes. That he doesn’t have time for a part-time job, and even if he did, he’d surely fall asleep on the counter. That his studies are hard, that his major is filled with competitive people and he can’t afford to fall behind. 

Seonghwa speaks first, words gentle and comforting - he says their arrangement could work as a small allowance, since Yunho feels iffy about asking for more or teetering into ‘paying-for-his-entire-student-debt’ territory. They don’t settle on anything for the moment, but his stomach isn’t tied into a knot like before. He still feels shy, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And Hongjoong and Seonghwa never make him feel bad for speaking up. 

When their bill comes, the waiter places it discreetly on the table. Yunho, who’s talking with Hongjoong, sees Seonghwa out of the corner of his eye taking a peek at the bill before he signals to the waiter with one hand, taking out his card with the other from his coat. 

Yunho doesn’t say anything, but Hongjoong gives him a smile.  _ They’ll take care of it, _ he means. 

_ They’ll take care of him, too. _

  
  


♥

  
  


“Are you sure you’re okay with riding the train this late at night? I can call you a taxi, y’know.” 

“No, ‘s okay,” Yunho assures them. They’re in the elevator, descending slowly, and it gives Yunho a heady, floaty sensation in combination with his full tummy and the drinks he consumed. He blinks a few times when his eyes droop downwards, fatigue taking over him. “It stops right next to where I live. And I don’t want to waste a ticket.” 

Admittingly, and he’s not sure why, but he does feel kind of disappointed that the couple didn’t offer to drive him home. He knows it’s probably for the best - he might have panicked, and they’re doing their best to give him his space. This was only a first date, if he can even call it that. Even after tonight, they know almost nothing about each other. 

His stomach twists; he doesn’t want to catastrophize and assume that they’re not offering because they don’t want to see him again. 

“Here,” Hongjoong passes him a small card once they’re outside of the building, heading towards the train station. Yunho takes it, regarding it curiously, “My personal card, it has both mine and Seonghwa’s phone numbers on it,” he points to the fine printing, “If you need us for anything, please don’t hesitate to call, okay Yunho?” 

Hongjoong’s palm reaches up and ruffles his hair and,  _ oh, _ Yunho really can’t protest after that. 

They walk with him until the station’s entrance, Seonghwa’s hand on the small of his back, the three of them gravitating towards each other for warmth. He still has two minutes until his train arrives, so he stops abruptly right in front of the staircase, and turns to them. 

“I-” he begins, failing to find the right words at first, “This was nice. I mean, I had a wonderful time.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. 

The couple look at him with their star-filled eyes, offering their smiles on a platter, as if it’s just for him. 

“It was wonderful,” Seonghwa admits, pursing his lips as if he’s trying not to smile harder, “To be honest with you, Yunho, we were very nervous before this. But, as it appears, there was nothing to worry about.” 

An announcement rings through the station, startling Yunho. He needs to get going quickly, if he doesn’t want to miss the last train of the night. 

Yet he remains frozen on his feet, standing before a married couple that’s looking at him with expressions so fond that draw him in, like a spell. 

“Will I see you again?” he blurts out, almost breathless. His hands tingle at his sides - he wants to touch, but maybe a hug would be too much. He doesn’t even know them that well, why is he so touch-starved? 

But Hongjoong rubs his hand down his arm, a momentary comfort, “If you want to, yes. We want to see you again too, Yunho.” 

Yunho wants to hear his name from their lips again and again and again. 

His ears ring again - he’s gonna miss his train if he doesn’t leave _now_. 

“Go, go, you’ll miss your train,” Seonghwa tells him, “Be safe, Yunho!” 

“You too!” he shouts as he runs, turning to look at them as he runs down the stairs - it’s a miracle he doesn’t trip and fall on his face, and squeezes himself through the automatic doors a second before they close and the train takes off, mechanical whirring pushing him forwards with force. 

Thankfully, there seems to be no weirdos on the train this time, which is a first - there’s a couple dozing off with their heads pushed together at the back, a group of ladies softly chattering and another young man who’s reading a book. Silently, Yunho takes a seat and leans his head against the window. It feels soothingly cold on his flushed skin. He closes his eyes and sighs - maybe he’ll doze off for the rest of the ride. 

His phone buzzes, but he’s already breathing heavily, head sinking into fluffy clouds of dreams, face squished against the window. 

_ ‘'Kim-Park’ has sent you a message! Tap here for more.’  _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hewwo! chapter two is finally here! took a bit longer to write bc of the holidays, but it's also a hefty boi ~ :3   
> i hope you all had fun during the holidays and i wish you all a happy new year!! the response to this fic was greater that i'd ever anticipated, and i just wanted to say a huge THANK YOU and I LOVE YOU SO MUCH to everyone who's left comments, kudos, bookmarked it or even read it during their spare time!! i love and appreciate you all so much! 
> 
> i hope you like the continuation! there's lots of stuff planned for this so pls look forward to more from me <3 
> 
> also: the ten cameo in this fic is completely self indulgent. i love him!!!!! 
> 
> comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated <3 enjoy!! <3

“So you have their phone numbers now?” Jongho questions him a few days later. He places the steaming cup of latte on the small table Yunho usually sits at, the one near the cashier so that Jongho can chat with him when there’s not a lot of traffic at the cafe his friend works at part-time. 

Right now, it’s one of those times - Jongho is all alone, and there’s only two other customers occupying a table at the other side of the cafe, already served and making conversation. 

Yunho holds the cup in his palms like a hand warmer, sighing happily when Jonho takes a seat opposite of him - one of the perks of Jongho working here for years now, other than the fact that Yunho can get his daily dose of caffeine with a hefty discount, is that his friend is definitely not as uptight when his boss isn’t around. 

“I do,” says Yunho, “But I haven’t called them yet. We’ve sent each other a few texts back and forth after the date.” 

“And?” 

Yunho bites the inside of his lip. When he got to his dorm that night, after the novel experience of going on a sugar-daddy date with a married couple nonetheless, there was a goodnight text waiting for him in his notifications. 

**[Kim-Park]:** Tonight was lovely, Yunho. I hope we see each other again very, very soon. -S, H 

The response he sent was one of similar nature, typed in hurriedly while he simultaneously took off his clothes, falling onto the creaking mattress as exhaustion washed over his body. He felt wonderful though, as tired as he was - he felt warm under the covers, but the warmth seemed to be seeping out of  _ him _ , generated by good food and Seonghwa’s hand rubbing the small of his back and Hongjoong’s sparkly eyes and cute voice and… 

He was stroking himself before he could realize what he was doing, pushing his shirt into his mouth until a generous amount of spit could soak into the fabric, his free hand twisting his soft pink nipple as he came in short, breathy moans, imagining hands that weren’t his own exploring his body at their leisure. 

He thought about the two of them in bed - Yunho doesn’t know if it’s due to the fact that they’ve been together for so long or because of their marriage, but the two of them seemed to almost mirror each other in their expressions. As he squeezed his cock, milking himself from his orgasm until it was down-right pleasurably painful and overstimulating, a fleeting image of the married couple fucking on their probably very expensive sheets was enough for him to groan loudly, almost drooling. 

Jongho snaps his fingers in front of his voice. “Yah, Yunho - what happened next?” 

“Nothing’s happened after that,” he murmurs. He can’t get horny right before his next class, for fuck’s sake. “They do have jobs, you know.” 

“Do they now,” Jongho says, brow quirking upwards, revealing his sardonic tone, “What do they do?” 

“Hongjoong is a fashion designer. He has his own company. Seonghwa is the CEO of said company - I’m pretty sure he handles the financial department of things.” 

“Okay,” Jongho says, but he still doesn’t sound convinced. “What’s the name of the company?” When Yunho doesn’t answer, he raises his brows, “What, they didn’t tell you?” 

“We didn’t-” 

“Yunho you’re getting scammed.” 

“I’m not getting scammed!” he protests, “We’ve gone on  _ one _ date! Hongjoong handed me his personal card!” 

“And why haven’t you fucking googled them?” Jongho’s eyes bulge out, “That would be the first thing I would do.” 

“I slept in all day yesterday,” Yunho pouts. “Stop getting anxious over my well-being. They’re fine, really.” 

Jongho purses his lips, but lets it go. They both know that out of the two of them, Jongho is much more frantic with his worries, whereas Yunho gets quiet when he’s anxious - in the end, Yunho consoles Jongho much more often than the opposite. 

“You have practice with Wooyoung and San next?” his friend asks, already knowing the answer. He leans over to the cashier, grabbing a few snacks from the baskets they place in front of customers to urge them to make an extra purchase with their coffee, “Share with them, okay? I’m pretty sure you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” 

Yunho doesn’t respond, but he opens the chocolate-filled pastry wrapped in plastic and takes a huge bite out of it. 

The bell chimes from the front door of the cafe, but Yunho sits opposite of the entrance, so he cannot see the customer who’s just entered - all he sees is Jongho jumping to his feet, patting down his dark maroon apron, face lighting up like a shooting star. 

“Jongho!” A deep voice shouts excitedly behind Yunho, “I wanna try that coconut latte you recommended to me last time!” 

Yunho turns around - the deep voice belongs to a tall, cheerful guy, high cheeks pressing into the round frames of his glasses. Yunho feels like he’s seen him somewhere, but he’s not sure. What he is sure of, is that this guy has a particularly strong effect on Jongho. 

“Hey, can you help me out with this essay?” the guy says again, already unzipping his backpack, “I think I’ve got it figured out, but a look-over always helps! Oh, hi!” he turns to Yunho, smile still bright, “We’ve never met before, I think. Are you one of Jongho’s friends? I’m Mingi!” 

“Yunho,” Yunho says, and he can’t help but smile as a result of Mingi’s infectious bubbly disposition. “Jongho is one of my best friends,” he admits. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Jongho says, “Now Yunho, you have  _ class _ I think.” 

“Uh, actually, I still have like ten minutes left-” 

“Well, you can take a nice walk,” Jongho says hastily, gently but forcefully moving Yunho’s startled body from his seat and ushering him towards the exit, “Go, go, shoo.” 

“Is this something I should know about?” Yunho can’t help but ask, a cheeky smile making his cheeks rise up like dough. “Do you have a crush on this Mingi-” 

“Have a nice day, thank you for coming!” Jongho yells anxiously, and Yunho is finally out of the cafe, bell chiming as the door shuts behind him. 

Giggling, Yunho takes a peek from the glass windows; Jongho has sat down on one of the tables next to Mingi, looking over a stack of papers that seem to get bigger as Mingi gets more things out of his bag. He’s definitely going to question Wooyoung and San about this - thing is, if it’s a secret, he’s at risk of spreading the information to _ those _ two; well that’s a problem for future Yunho to figure out. 

There’s still ten minutes until dance practice starts, and the building isn’t far away - it only takes him two minutes until he’s finally inside the studio, all alone apart from his classmates’ bags, haphazardly thrown across the room near the walls. He slumps down on the wooden floor after taking his shoes and socks off. He begins stretching, legs spread out on each side as he twists his waist and leans down on his thigh, the underside of his leg burning deliciously. 

His eyes turn to his bag. He huffs and starts stretching against his other leg, but the thought is still there, buzzing around his mind like an annoying insect. 

He  _ could  _ call them. 

And say what?  _ “Hi, I think you’re both extremely hot and pretty and I’ve had a near on-going semi for the past two days. Getting paid sounds nice but to be honest, for some reason, I kind of want to see you two more.”  _

Besides, maybe texting them through the app would be better - but who knows when they’d see his message, and he doesn’t want to get ignored. 

Before he knows it, the card is already in his hands. 

It’s sleek but edgy, textured as if there’s paint splattered over the paper - on the back, there’s their initials, KHJ and PSH, and their personal phone numbers. 

There’s still 7 minutes left until the studio fills with the rest of his classmates and their instructor comes back, and Yunho is going to make a bad decision. 

He calls Hongjoong first. 

A weird, foreign, sour feeling spreads through him when Hongjoong doesn’t answer even after a minute and a half of calling him. Well. 

He confirms his suspicions of having little to no shame when he hangs up and dials Seonghwa’s number instead. 

His heart jumps when the man answers on the second ring,  _ “Park Seonghwa speaking.” _

His voice sounds professional and cold, completely opposite of the tone he had during their date that was light-hearted and charming. It startles Yunho so much that he forgets how normal people greet each other over the phone and just says bluntly, “I thought this was a personal number?” 

A pause, and then an audible gasp through the phone,  _ “Yunho? Is that you?”  _

“Yeah-” 

_ “I knew it was you! I recognized your voice,” Seonghwa laughs, audibly relaxed, “I apologize, I’m in work-mode right now and many of my associates also have my personal number, so I’m always alert.” _

“You’re at work right now? Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have called, I’m keeping you busy-” 

_ “No, please,” _ Seonghwa protests, _ “We gave you our phone numbers for a reason, hm? And I’m not that busy right now - I can always make time for you.” _

Yunho gulps, “Huh, um. Okay, so I called you, because-” he looks up when a few students enter the room, and he slides further back into the corner, lowering his voice, “I guess I, uh, I wanted to see how you’re doing?” Great, clingy as hell. 

Seonghwa chuckles through the phone, _ “I’m doing well, Yunho. How about you, busy start to the week? How are your classes?” _

“Good, fine, busy as always,” Yunho replies. “I'm waiting for dance practice to start in a bit, and I have two classes back-to-back in the afternoon.” 

_ “That sounds like a lot, Yunho dear,” _ Seonghwa tuts. 

San’s vibrant pink head peaks through the door, “Good morning!” he yells to the rest of the students in the studio, Wooyoung’s deep morning voice mumbling something similar after him. Once he spots Yunho, he happily bounces towards him, “Yunho-” 

_ “-right?” _ Seonghwa’s voice comes from his phone, and Yunho realizes he hasn’t paid any attention to what he’s been saying. He motions to San and Wooyoung to leave him alone until he finishes his phone call. 

“Sorry, can you repeat that? It’s a bit busy in here, and I couldn’t-” 

A chuckle,  _ “Ah, that’s okay! I was just saying, do you have any free time to eat your lunch today? You shouldn’t overwork yourself. I know college schedules can be straining to your mental health and well-being.” _

Yunho thinks if Seonghwa had been his mental health advisor throughout high school (that is, if their school had one in the first place), he would have probably arrived at university with so much less trauma and baggage from his adolescence. The man’s voice just sounds so comforting and sweet that it catches Yunho off guard. The mental image of Seonghwa’s big, round eyes looking at him with lashes so long they almost touch his cheekbones is enough to make his heart clench. 

“I-I do have a two-hour break in between dance practice and my next class,” he admits, “I’ll get lunch then!” 

_ “Would you be interested in getting lunch with me?”  _

Oh, that’s a very interesting turn of events - Yunho is not going to admit that the goal of this phone call was to see them, nor is he going to admit how over the moon he feels that it’s turning out this way. 

_ “Since I’m at the office right now, I usually have lunch here. I can’t promise that Hongjoong will have time to join us, but nevertheless, it’ll be fun. Don’t feel pressured to agree-”  _

“No, I want to!” he rushes to say, realizing how loud he’s being after almost everyone in the room turns to look at him. He hears Wooyoung mumble something to San about him being a gay disaster, as if those two have any room to talk. But that’s not important right now, “I really want to, Seonghwa.” 

Seonghwa makes a noise through the phone that could possibly be the most adorable thing Yunho has ever heard,  _ “I’ll text you the address - have a nice dance practice, alright?”  _

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you.” 

When he finally hangs up, San and Wooyoung are lying on the floor next to him on their tummies, holding up their faces in their hands - they both have sprout-like ponytails on their heads with matching hair ties, and Yunho can’t help but laugh shyly. 

“You’re getting fucked during lunch break?” Wooyoung breaks the silence. 

“Shut up!” Yunho cries out desperately, hoping no one’s heard him, “I’m just going to have lunch with him at his office. I met them two days ago!” 

Their instructor arrives then, and sternly tells them to start stretching because they have a lot of choreography steps to go through. Yunho obediently helps San stretch this time, but is ultimately pestered by his friend’s constant nagging. “How does it feel, getting wined and dined for the second date in a row? You’re a pro sugar baby, at this point.” 

“I’m not getting ‘wined’, it’s just lunch,” Yunho reminds him, “Now be quiet and stretch better, how am I supposed to lift you later?” 

“It’s not my fault you have long noodle arms-” 

Yunho huffs, a devious smile appearing on his face once he realizes the convenient position his hands are at the moment - with a swift motion that fills him with utter satisfaction, he digs his fingers into San’s waist and tickles mercilessly at his sides, until San starts squealing like a fox and their instructor yells at them to stop being children and concentrate. 

  
  


♥

  
  


Three hours later and Yunho is scrambling to unlock his phone - this time, he doesn’t have any notifications from Nectar, but a text on his personal number. 

_ Hi, this is Seonghwa! Sending you the address here for lunch..  _

When Yunho clicks on the location link, he realizes a few things: for one, Hongjoong’s company is very close to his university building. Like, ten-minutes-on-foot close. He’s pretty sure he’s passed by the specific building that houses their offices, never sparing it more than a glance - he does remember noting that it looked very expensive and professional. But then again, so did most skyscraper buildings. 

“KHJ Co.,” he murmurs to himself, looking at the information Google provides, “...fashion brands  _ ‘Aurora’ _ and  _ ‘Desire’ _ ...” 

“C’mon puppy,” Wooyoung jabs him at his side, catching him off guard, “You’ll be late for your date.” 

When Yunho looks up, everyone else has left the room, and only his two friends have stayed behind. 

“I need to change!” he realizes. He’s still in his black workout leggings, but in order to change he has to drop by his dorm first, and he doesn’t want to be late - he usually doesn’t care enough to do so, and just keeps on wearing them through his lessons later in the day. 

“But your ass looks fantastic in those,” San assures him, like the hype-man he is. “Besides, as you said, it’s just lunch.” 

“Do you expect me to stroll through a professional office in a pair of leggings?” 

“And you’ll do it with pride,” Wooyoung nods, “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep your CEO waiting.” 

They end up accompanying him until a block away from the building - and they only agree to let him enter on his own after he practically begs them to do so, “I already have Jongho on my case thinking I’m getting scammed,” he sighs, and San shushes him with a kiss on the cheek, his short pink ponytail bouncing with his excited head movements, “Stop rubbing on me like a cat! Now go, do couple-y things like you always do when I’m around!” 

“Come here, Sannie,” Wooyoung wraps an arm around San’s waist, “While Yunho gets ‘lunch’, I’m gonna treat you to some tteokbokki like the good, pure boyfriend I am.” 

“Hell yeah,” San snuggles up against him as they start walking away, waving at Yunho and reminding him to not be late for his next class. 

Now, it’s just Yunho. 

He hesitates at first, standing awkwardly in front of the entrance - he can see through the glass walls a myriad of people moving around, evidently busy with work. He goes through the automatic doors and makes a beeline for the receptionist - Seonghwa had mentioned in his text that he could just leave his name at the front desk and mention that he’s here to see Park Seonghwa. 

So Yunho takes a deep breath and approaches the well-dressed lady who’s currently operating the front desk, phone clutched between her cheek and shoulder. 

“Hello, hi,” he says shyly, hoping to get her attention. Fortunately, she noticed him quick enough and motions for him to wait just a second while she finishes her phone call. “My name’s Jeong Yunho, I’m here to see Mr. Park Seonghwa,” he tells her when she finally greets him, “I have an appointment with him…” 

“Ah, so  _ you _ are Yunho, then,” another voice sounds from behind him, startling him. When he turns around, he’s met with a man much shorter than him, who’s holding an iPad close to his chest, looking very professional and busy. Or he’s very good at pretending that he is. 

“I was just ready to give you a call,” the receptionist smiles at the man. 

“It’s my job to appear out of nowhere just when I’m needed,” he winks at her. 

“Ten will take you up to Mr. Park’s office, Mr. Jeong,” she says, noting down his name. 

“Ah, right,” Yunho says when the man, Ten, threads his arm around his, holding onto him by the inside of his elbow. “Um, how do you know my name?” 

“I’m Mr. Park’s personal assistant,” Ten tells him, as if that’s supposed to answer his question, “You’re really tall, you know? If I didn’t know you two were meeting for lunch, I would have guessed you were here to apply as a model for the upcoming runway show. Y’know, with your pink hair and all.” 

They walk through the lobby, and Yunho looks around at the sleek but colorful design that’s prominent in every aspect of the decor - from the pastel accents on the walls to the bright, colorful furniture. The hubbub and chatter sounds almost melodic, and Yunho almost falls into a trance while he stares at people passing by him, until he’s standing in front of the elevator, its loud  _ ding _ interrupting his thoughts. 

“His office is at the top floor, so this will take a bit,” Ten notifys him once they’re both inside the elevator, doors slowly closing, “Mr. Park did talk to me about you - he never expects visitors during lunchtime and no one’s allowed into his office during that time either, other than Mr. Kim. He had to make sure I wouldn’t do my best to keep you out,” he giggles, eyes crinkling. 

Ignoring the vague threatening connotations of Ten’s otherwise lighthearted persona, Yunho can’t help but ask, “Will Hongjoong be there, too?” 

Ten stays silent for a moment, before a self-indulgent smile appears on his lips. It takes a second for Yunho to realize that it was caused by him referring to Ten’s boss in such an informal way. The man takes a look at his iPad screen, scrolling through until he finds what he’s looking for, “Mr. Kim is currently in a meeting with the creative department, but he’ll most likely be done soon,” he says. 

Yunho’s heart flutters at the possibility of meeting both of them again so soon. 

A minute or two more and they’re finally at the top floor - Ten waits until Yunho gets out first, and Yunho stumbles over his feet when he tries to thank him and also walk at the same time. 

This floor is not as busy at the lobby, although there’s still a substantial amount of people here too - evidently, it’s also their break time, because instead of sitting at their desks, they’ve gathered around the couches near the windows, having lunch with the view of the city. Ten leads him to a separate room that’s still visible through the glass walls, a very spacious and well-equipped kitchen. The kitchen island is filled with a variety of metallic trays full of food, and it already looks like people have already done a number on them. 

“Pick out anything you’d like to eat and I’ll bring it for you in Mr. Park’s office,” Ten tells him.

“Ah, it’s okay, you don’t have to bring it for me, I’ll take it-” Yunho tries to protest. 

“No, no, I will,” Ten insists, “Now, pick out what you like. His office is the first door to your left,” the personal assistant gestures vaguely. 

Yunho takes a careful look at each and every steaming tray of food - there’s soup and roasted meat and spicy vegetable stew and salad bowls and skewers and pasta, and Yunho barely manages to pick out something for lunch without drooling all over the marble counter. Ten gives him a smile and assures him that he’ll be just fine, and Yunho takes off in search of Seonghwa’s office, legs already feeling numb with nervousness. 

Seonghwa’s office is situated at the end of a short corridor; he chews on the side of his thumb and looks behind him nervously as he stands in front of the double doors, wondering if he should wait until Ten arrives with their lunch. But then, that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Trying to open the door while Seonghwa’s personal assistant’s hands are holding a heavy tray, then squeezing past him to go sit at the table, would he get to greet Seonghwa first- 

“Yunho?” 

The doors have slided open, and Seonghwa’s head is poking out through the gap, staring at him with pretty big eyes wide open, lips slightly parted. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses are perched across the bridge of his nose. 

“Ah-” Yunho gasps, “Seonghwa? Did you- how did you know I was here?” 

“I can see you from the camera,” the man lets out a soft laugh, pointing towards the security camera at the ceiling corner. “Wanna come in?” he pushes the doors away from each other, extending his hand for Yunho to take it. 

Seonghwa’s office is huge, glass windows letting in direct sunlight that rivals the (probably) expensive, designer lamps decorating the room. There’s a desk, which clearly serves as his working station, completed with an expensive desktop computer, a laptop propped up closer to his desk chair, files upon files and papers scattered on the glass table, as if he’s just stopped mid-working. On the side, a large dining table with multiple chairs lined on each side, used for conferences and, from what Yunho can decipher from the cutlery and glasses set on it, for lunchtime too. 

The colors of the room are nothing like what Yunho had imagined a dreary businessman’s office would look like - instead of dark, grey tones and industrial aesthetics, the colors are warm, pastel cremes, gentle brick orange and soft greens, completed with accents of vivid colors from the variety of plants settled comfortably in elaborate pots on the floor and on the walls. Said walls also display paintings, pictures and collages that add to the originality of the decor. 

“Your office is so nice,” Yunho murmurs, cursing himself for not choosing something better to say. But Seonghwa smiles, cheeks high and rosy. 

“I spend a ridiculous amount of hours here, it would be a shame to not customize it a bit to my liking,” he says, “It’s good to see you, Yunho.” 

“Mm, it’s good to see you, too.” 

Seonghwa squeezes his palm one last time before moving towards the dining table, dragging out one of the chairs and gesturing to Yunho to have a seat. There’s three sets of plates, all situated next to each other at one side of the table. It seems like Hongjoong will join them, after all. 

Once he sits, Seonghwa moves towards a small, pink fridge at the far end corner of the room, “What would you like to drink, dear? Water, soda, juice, wine, although it’s a bit early for alcohol but I do like to keep a bottle or two just in case…” 

“Soda is fine.” 

Seonghwa picks out three matching green-colored glasses from the cupboards on top of the fridge and begins pouring Yunho and himself their refreshments. At that moment, Ten comes in, holding two steaming plates full of delicious lunch that he places in front of the two men, “I take it you already met Ten,” Seonghwa speaks up, “Whenever you feel like visiting us, don’t be afraid to just ask for him down at the front desk: he’ll always take you to where we are, no matter how busy we might be.” 

The offer makes Yunho’s ears redden embarrassingly fast. “Right, sure.” 

With a kind smile, the personal assistant leaves them alone, the doors shutting tight behind him with a resounding thud. 

“Dig in,” Seonghwa prompts him, “Dance practice must have taken up a lot of your energy that you need to replenish.”

Yunho eats slowly, despite how hungry he feels. It’s not because he feels embarrassed; rather, he doesn’t only want to savor the food but drink in every little detail of his surroundings. His eyes land anywhere that isn’t Seonghwa, and he doesn’t realize how much time he’s spent averting his gaze until a hand wraps around his, shyly caressing the skin. It startles him a little, just enough for his fork to clink against the plate. 

“Is everything to your liking?” 

“Very much so,” Yunho replies, already out of breath. The suit Seonghwa is wearing stays free from any sort of stain despite the bubbling, spicy broth the man has chosen for his lunch. It’s a deep color, just a few shades away from the color of his raven black hair. The buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned right where the dip of his throat and his collarbones meet. 

They should talk about sex, Yunho thinks, in a situation where there’s no rhyme nor reason for him to be getting horny. 

But really, they should clarify what it would entail: sex within this… agreement that the three of them are slowly finalizing? Making it official? Yunho takes another bite from the roasted meat, the sizzling food melting right away into his mouth. Do they even want to have sex with him? They mentioned in their profile that sexual relations would be discussed upon meeting, if the two parties were interested. And well, Yunho is very much interested, he decides as he looks at Seonghwa’s neck once again, the soft skin that peeks underneath his clothes and holds the promise of so much more. 

_ “You’re getting fucked during lunch break?”  _ Wooyoung’s voice rings in his ears. 

They should probably talk about this when Hongjoong arrives. If he does, that is. 

Seonghwa’s hand hasn’t left his, he realizes. He takes a look at it, the way Seonghwa’s fingers are splayed over the top of his hand. 

There’s a dazzling yet simple wedding band wrapped around Seonghwa’s ring finger. 

“Ah, I’m finally here!” A distant voice sounds from the door - Yunho zeroes in on his food when he realizes that the voice belongs to  _ Hongjoong _ \- his meeting must have ended, according to what Ten had told him when he first arrived here. “I’m told I have two pretty men at my disposal for lunch, is that true?” 

Yunho sees Seonghwa rolling his eyes, but the blush on his cheeks betrays just how much Hongjoong’s flamboyant flattery affects him. “The two pretty men were too hungry to wait for you, darling.” 

“But of course, I wouldn’t want our Yunho here to get hungry.” 

When Hongjoong finally shows up in his field of vision, he’s wearing loose-fitting pants and a big sweater that almost swallows him whole - it’s colorful loungewear that’s more suited for a stay-at-home husband than a businessman. Then again, Hongjoong probably doesn’t have an office like Seonghwa does. 

Hongjoong approaches them, leaning into Seonghwa’s embrace and pressing his lips into his husband’s, sealing them into a kiss that sounds wet and more than likely feels sticky and warm. Yunho grips his glass and tries not to show how much he’d love to be the one in the middle of this seemingly insignificant, marital ritual. 

“I accidentally took your hair tie this morning,” Hongjoong whispers, taking it off his wrist and immediately threading his fingers through his husband’s hair - Seonghwa’s hair is certainly fluffy and luscious, its ends touching his nape. But Yunho hadn’t realized its true power until Hongjoong carefully scoops it into a short ponytail, revealing a hidden undercut that takes up the bottom half of his scalp, easily hidden by his long hair on top. “There we go.” 

“Thank you,” Seonghwa murmurs bashfully. 

After this, Hongjoong takes a seat next to Yunho this time, “How was the uhm, the meeting?” Yunho asks. 

“Interesting,” Hongjoong says after a moment, “It’s one of the most boring parts of my job and certainly not the reason why I do what I do. But sometimes, things work out well and I can feel that we’ve made progress.” 

The three of them talk about work for a while - well, Seonghwa and Hongjoong do most of the talking, explaining the various parts of their daily work lives. Yunho settles for commenting on how pretty their offices are, and Hongjoong goes on a five-minute rant about how Seonghwa was actually the one who worked closely with their designer.

“My husband has an eye for beauty,” he chuckles when he says that, and for some reason, eyes Yunho up and down. 

“I’m so happy you came,” he tells him after they’ve halfway done with their lunch, one arm rubbing up and down Yunho’s. “We were going to call you once the work day was over, but you beat us to it, it seems. It’s like we’re gravitating towards each other, mm? It’s great that you reached out to us.” 

Yunho nods, “I’m glad I did. I really like spending time with you. I hesitated at first, just because I didn’t want to disturb you from your schedules. You’re much more busy than I am.” 

“Just like we can seek you out, you can do so too, Yunho,” Hongjoong assures him. “All of us are busy and work hard, and yes, that includes you too, don’t undermine your hard work simply because you’re not working yet.” A hand comes up to pinch Yunho’s cheek, and Yunho almost chokes at his food. 

“Let’s use our time together to refresh our spirits and relax. There’s no reason to feel uptight around us, Yunho,” Seonghwa adds. 

It’s late afternoon, and the sky has already begun to set - yellow, orange and pink, muted colors filter through the curtains in front of the glass windows. He has a little less than an hour until he has to get back to his university building for class. A little less than an hour to spend with them.

“Do you seek something in me, though?” the words leave his mouth without giving them much through, mouth moving to shape the words that feel foreign on his tongue. He plays with his fingers underneath the table, staring at his hands and his black leggings. 

He doesn’t hear an answer right away, and in his panic, he finally looks up - both men are staring at him, expressions hard to decipher. 

“Do you,” he begins again, anxiety bleeding out. That’s what he always does when he gets anxious, just opens his mouth and keeps on talking, even if it’s exhausting. “Am I a simple dinner date? A companion?” Words upon words spill out of his mouth, and he’s not sure if he’s following the right path in pursuit of what he really wants. 

“We seek you,” Hongjoong speaks up, his voice low and commanding all of his attention. A hand comes up to rest near Yunho’s waist, palm reaching to engulf as much softness as possible. “We want you, Yunho. And everything that encompasses your being. Everything you wish to give us.”

“If you wish to remain a simple dinner date with no strings attached, that’s perfectly fine, too.” Seonghwa says, although his eyes are dark and his voice is deep and heavy as it rumbles out of his chest. “Is that what you want?” 

Yunho gulps, “No, not just that.” 

“Something more? Do you want more, Yunho?” Hongjoong whispers, so close to his ear that Yunho can feel his breath against his skin, sensitive goosebumps responding to the stimulation. 

“I want,” he begins, feigning confidence, “I want you both.” 

“So simple in your requests,” Hongjoong laughs, and from the corner of his eye Yunho sees Seonghwa purse his plump lips to hide his smile, “No specifications, no terms and conditions?” 

Yunho grunts in frustration, turning to Seonghwa, “Is your husband always so snarky?” 

The surprise on Seonghwa’s face is enough for Hongjoong to start laughing loudly, cackling right into Yunho’s ear, and Yunho ends up laughing and relaxing a little too. 

Suddenly, his phone pings loudly with a notification - a reminder that his class is starting in thirty minutes. 

“I need to get going soon,” he says wistfully, regret showing in his voice. “I can’t be late for my class.” 

“Did you finish your lunch?” Seonghwa asks him, eyeing his plate suspiciously, “I can pack some leftovers for you if you’d like.” 

Yunho looks at his plate - there’s still a substantial amount of food left, and even though he’s not hungry by any means now, he knows he’s going to regret it later if he declines. He’s learnt that the hard way, “Yeah, I’d like that,” he says bashfully. 

They walk to the kitchenette once again, but this time Seonghwa doesn’t call for Ten or another assistant to pack Yunho’s lunch. Hongjoong searches through the fridge for some refreshments, and Yunho can’t do much other than simply stand there, witnessing the two men work silently but in coordination in the kitchen. They don’t talk at all - but a hand on the waist or a small pat on the shoulder and Seonghwa knows to bring down straws from the cupboard to pair with the refreshments, and Hongjoong knows to stand a little to the left so that Seonghwa can take out a paper bag and place the tupperware inside. 

Suddenly, Yunho feels like an intruder. This is what the couple probably looks like during the mornings they spend in their kitchen. In their home. 

Seonghwa even took off his blazer and pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, muscles flexing underneath. 

Yunho doesn’t even realize that Hongjoong is standing next to him, too immersed in the image of the man so intensely focused in the kitchen, with his hair tied up nonetheless. “Ah, I know,” Hongjoong’s voice makes him jump, but when Yunho turns to look at him, he’s crossed his arms in front of his chest, a dreamy look in his eyes. He sighs, leaning his head against Yunho’s arm, “He looks so good, working in the kitchen, right? He’s an amazing cook, too.” 

“Is he?” Yunho’s throat is dry, eyes fixed on the redness blooming on Seonghwa’s knuckles while he grips the ladle to pour the food in the tupperware. 

“Mmm, he cooks for me sometimes when we get the time,” Hongjoong confirms, dragging his arm down Yunho’s back until he can side-hug him from his waist again, “Y’know, his cooking is great, but his breakfast is out of this world.” 

“Really…” Yunho whispers. 

“I bet he’d love to make us breakfast one day,” Hongjoong murmurs, “Sweet or savory?” 

“Sweet…” Yunho admits, “I, uhm, I like pancakes.” 

“I’ll make sure he remembers.” 

Once his leftovers are packed and sealed with the utmost care by Seonghwa, the three of them make their way down the elevator to the ground floor once again. It’s far from silent - Hongjoong shows him around the decor; large, high definition pictures of runways and articles, awards and accolades are mounted on the walls. They don’t have enough time for the designer to get into detail, but Hongjoong’s excitement is enough for Yunho to understand that the designer is very passionate about his creations. 

Multiple pairs of eyes follow them as the three finally enter the ground floor and walk towards the exit, passing by the front desk. Some of them, most likely employees, scramble to gather their things and busy themselves, breaking apart from their chattering coworkers at the sight of their bosses waltzing past them. As if he’s being escorted, Seonghwa and Hongjoong both have each hand settled at the small of his back, their fingertips almost meeting over his sweater. 

“The sun is almost down now,” Seonghwa notices once they get outside, “Are you sure you don’t feel cold? I can lend you a coat if you’d like, Ten can get it for you in a matter of minutes-” 

“It’s alright,” Yunho assures him, enjoying the feeling of Seonghwa’s palms rubbing up and down his arms in an attempt to warm him up. “I don’t have to walk that far anyways…” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “This was fun!” 

Hongjoong breaks into a smile, and Seonghwa’s eyes become starlit once again, “It was lovely. Please know that you’re always welcome to barge into our offices whenever you feel like it. Honestly. I’ve already told Ten to just let you in regardless of how much work I have.” Seonghwa says. 

“That’s a great privilege, Jeong Yunho,” Hongjoong teases him, “There’s only one other person who shares such an advantage over the great workaholic Park Seonghwa,” for effect, he does a twirl and puts his hands in the air for extra dazzle, “Other than I, that is!” 

And Yunho can’t help but giggle, despite the people that stare at them as they shout and laugh on the street. The two men move closer towards him, almost giving him a hug, telling him that he’s going to get cold if he keeps standing here and that he’ll miss his class. 

“Ah, I almost forgot!” Seonghwa suddenly speaks up, “There’s an upcoming PR event at the end of next week, hosted by this social media company that wants to approach high-end brands for possible cross-promotions and collaborations. If your schedule isn’t packed, would you care to join us as our plus one?” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, silly,” Hongjoong laughs, patting his head, “But don’t feel obliged to accept our invitation-” 

“I want to be with you,” Yunho clarifies, and his cheeks redden at how determined his voice sounds. The looks on their faces are worth it, however, “So I accept your invitation.” 

“No skipping class or assignments,” Seonghwa clarifies, “I’ll text you the details and if you’re free, I’ll be elated to have you join us, mm?” For good measure, or for persuasive purposes, Seonghwa leans in and brushes his thumb over Yunho’s cheekbone, cradling his cheek tenderly. 

“Sure-” Yunho begins to say. 

Then Seonghwa leans in, and kisses his cheek. 

A soft, silent smooch. 

Then Hongjoong stands on his tip-toes and repeats the action on his other cheek. 

“Will you text either of us when you get to your class?” 

All Yunho can do is nod, dumbfounded and cheeks flaming, the ghostly sensations of each man’s lips lingering on his cheeks. 

  
  
  


♥

  
  


San ends up arriving a few minutes late to their first afternoon class - still, the lecture hasn’t started yet, and San is all but delighted to squish himself in the small seat next to Yunho’s, shoulders rubbing together.

“You do not look as disheveled as I was expecting you to be,” San finally says, quietly, mouthing the words behind his bag that’s settled on his desk. 

“Were you both expecting me to just waltz into a foreign building and fuck on a desk or something?” Yunho whispers, hiding his face in his arms. 

“What, did you two just have lunch together in his office?” 

“Actually yeah,” Yunho huffs proudly, “Hongjoong came too. We had lunch and talked about their work and my schedule.” 

“Riveting,” San rolls his eyes, “Didn’t they mention anything else? Any progress in your relationship?” 

Yunho hesitates for a moment, “They kissed me on the cheek?” 

“Aww.” 

“And I was invited to accompany them to an event next week.” 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” San almost shouts, and several pairs of eyes turn to look at them, “There it is, you’re slowly starting to live the high life.” 

“Let’s just hope I have no deadlines for next week so that I can go with them…” Yunho murmurs to himself, just in time for their professor to finally turn around and set up the projector. 

He reaches into his bag to mute his phone for the remainder of the lecture, but it pings right at that moment, a Nectar notification flashing across the screen. It’s anything but a direct message, however. 

“What is it?” San asks. 

“They just PayPal’d me actual money.” 

“For real?” San leans in, looking at his phone screen. 

It’s not an outrageous sum of money - like they’d discussed, it feels more like an allowance, enough for groceries and a few extra things. An amount of money his parents would have given him when he was young for the rest of the month, to spend on movie tickets, food and drinks. A sum that doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable, or make him feel like he’s leeching off of them. 

There’s mixed feelings swimming in his stomach, but Yunho ignores them for the time being and mutes his phone completely, allowing himself to pay attention to the lecture. 

  
  
  


♥

  
  
  


“Wait, can you do that one more time? I think I’m missing a step in the sequence,” Wooyoung says once he stops the music. 

It’s a week later - the weather is shitty and cold but at least the central heating is doing its job at warming the three boys up as they practice and figure out the choreography for the end of the semester presentation. The three of them had run towards each other before their instructor had the chance to assign them to different teams, and ever since then they had been practicing tirelessly, taking advantage of what little time they could find between their packed schedules for weekly rehearsals. 

“It’s one… two…. three…” Yunho goes over the step sequence slowly, Wooyoung’s eyes intensely focusing on his legs, “Before the turn, you need to extend your leg a bit more-” 

“Ah, okay, okay!” Wooyoung rushes to say, copying Yunho’s movements and marking the spots on the floor.

San is sat on the floor right next to them, tying the longer tips of his pink hair into a small, bean-sprout ponytail. “Can we go get some food later? I didn’t eat a big lunch.” 

“It’s like… pissing rain right now,” Wooyoung complains, sitting close to the window and peeking out of the curtain. “We can order take-out.” 

“But there’s this cute place I wanted to go…” San pouts, “It’s not far from here.” 

Yunho watches as Wooyoung rolls his eyes and gets on the floor, sliding towards San and wrapping his arms around him, “Alright, but I hope you’re ready to share an umbrella with me because I’ve lost mine and Yunho is too tall for proper umbrella sharing.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yunho squints his eyes. 

“You’re too tall! You hold the umbrella too high up and I always end up getting drenched!” 

An hour later and they’re dressing up, covering their thin workout clothes in layers upon layers of sweaters and scarves and coats. They make sure to switch off the lights of the practice room with the goal to make their way to San’s designated eatery for the night - but just before exiting the front doors of the building, Yunho’s phone rings. 

_ “Yunho!”  _

“Hongjoong?” he gasps when he hears the man’s voice through the phone. Wooyoung and San turn to look at him at the same time, like a bunch of meerkats. “Hi? What’s, what’s happening?” 

_ “Very busy, I’m on my sixth coffee of the day-”  _

“That sounds so unhealthy…” 

_ “Perhaps… Anyways, do you think you could come by the offices today? There’s something for you to pick up at the front desk. I’ll make sure Ten is there so he can explain the details for Friday.” _

Yunho pouts, “Something for me? What is it?” 

Hongjoong giggles, _ “I might have made a little something for you to wear for the event. That is, if you want to wear it. But I think it’ll suit you perfectly.”  _

“For me?” 

_ “Yes, for you, baby.”  _

_ Baby. Baby. Baby, Baby. _ “I-I can come get it now. Is that okay?” Yunho asks, hoping his cheeks don’t look as red as they feel. 

_ “More than okay. I’ll make sure it’s ready for you to pick it up.” _

“Will you be there too?” he asks, shyly but full of hope. 

Hongjoong’s sigh makes his heart twist,  _ “Unfortunately not, Yunho, I’m sorry. I’m at a workshop out of town - even if I left now, it would take me at least five hours to get back in the city, and that’s not counting traffic. And it’s a two-day workshop - I’m not scheduled to come back until the day after tomorrow.” _

“Oh, okay,” Yunho gulps. 

There’s an awkward pause between them - Hongjoong’s soft, breathy sounds don’t do much other than make Yunho feel even more weird about being so needy. He doesn’t even know the two of them that well, and he’s already attached. 

A voice calling Hongjoong echoes from the other end of the line,  _ “I have to go, Yunho. I’m sorry-” _

“No, no, it’s okay. I understand. I have to drop by and get my package, and I’m already late for dinner, so- uh, yeah. Thank you, Hongjoong. Thank you for-” 

_ “You haven’t even seen the outfit yet, silly,” _ Hongjoong laughs, _ “You should see it first and then thank me if you like it. Text me, or call me, whatever you want.” _

“I’m sure I’ll like it,” Yunho says confidently, “Have a nice evening, Hongjoong. And thank you again.” 

_ “You too, Yunho. Can’t wait to see you when I’m back.”  _

When Yunho finally hangs up, Wooyoung and San are staring at him with utmost curiosity, huddled underneath their umbrella. It’s pouring rain, and Yunho’s stomach growls for food. 

“Can we stop by somewhere else first? I have to get something.” 

  
  
  


♥

  
  
  


The box has dark matte finish, a black sleek color, with vibrant splashes of paint shining on top, textured as if the box was customized on the spot. The brand’s name,  _ ‘Aurora’ _ , is printed in the middle, along with a messily hand-written note right underneath,  _ ‘For Jeong Yunho’.  _

“How good is your relationship with heels?” Ten asks him as Yunho cradles the box in his hands like the holy grail. 

“I-I’d say, good enough?” Yunho mumbles, “I like wearing them, but I haven’t in a while, and I might need some practice.” 

“Is two days enough practice for you?” 

“Sure…” 

Just then, the personal assistant produces another box from behind the front desk, “I was told to provide two options for shoes, even though the outfit is best suited with heels. These are sturdy enough. Is this your size?” 

“Yeah-” 

“Great!” Ten smiles at him as he stacks another box on top of the first one, and Yunho stumbles at the sudden weight in his arms, “You’re going to be picked up an hour before the event starts,” he explains - the man has definite dark circles under his eyes, illuminated by the glaring light of his iPad screen, but that doesn’t falter him from being on his toes, “Now, you can either come here, or give me an address of your choice from where we can pick you up. Weather’s going to be bad, and I really don’t want you walking around in heels in the rain.” 

Thinking about it for a moment, Yunho gives Ten the address of his dorm building - if he’s going to have a solid relationship (based on transactions, of course) with the married couple, they might as well know where he lives. 

“Good, I’ll make note of -” Ten looks past Yunho, squinting his eyes behind his glasses, “Are those two your friends?” 

Yunho whips his head back in terror, only to be met with the sight of San and Wooyoung pressing their faces into the glass wall, their warm breaths fogging it up. 

“Y-yeah, they’re just - we were supposed to get dinner, I told them to wait outside.” 

Ten raises his brow, “Okay, but next time just tell them to come inside if you’re going to stay here for longer. We’ve got hot chocolate and everything, they must be freezing outside.” 

“Ah, I’ll remember that…” Yunho says in gratitude, sneaking looks at his two friends, who are now pushing against each other for a better look through the glass. 

Of course, the three bicker throughout the entire ten minute walk to the small, hole-in-the-wall ramen place San has picked for the night. The place is tiny, with only three tables surrounding the kitchen - the spicy, warm smell of the boiling broths lures them in, a refuge amidst the pouring rain and the cold. There’s lanterns all over the ceiling, and space heaters next to every table. There’s no other customers at this hour, but the owner is a kind, old man who offers them scalding cups of alcohol to warm their hands and throats up until their bowls arrive.

“Open it up,” Wooyoung says, ignoring how he’s still shivering, huddled close to San, “I wanna see what he made for you.” 

“Can we eat first-” Yunho protests. 

“No,” Wooyoung insists, “You made me carry the damn boxes all the way here-”

  
  


“You’re the only one who’s not holding an umbrella-”

Their ramen arrives in steaming bowls - the owner places them with gentle ‘clinks’ on the table, and quickly recedes to the back room, allowing the three boys their privacy. Hunger takes over their arguing and they spend an adequate amount of time silently eating, until their cheeks get red from the steam and the spicy broth and their bodies feel like jelly with warmth. 

“ _ ‘Aurora’ _ ,” San reads the top of the box while Yunho gently removes the perfumed tissue paper wrapped around the clothing. It’s packaged as if it’s a gift, almost. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that brand before. Very up-and-coming and innovative.” 

Wooyoung pulls out his phone to google the brand, but Yunho doesn’t pay them much attention after opening the box. After carefully unwrapping the outfit from the tissue paper (because he’s damn sure it’s expensive as fuck), he runs his fingers over the fabric for the first time, mouth parting slightly in surprise. 

The top is made by see-through, pastel pink-colored mesh - embroidered black thread creates shapes of constellations, phrases and messy illustrations, as if they’re pulled straight out of someone’s personal journal. The sleeves are long but the hem of the shirt seems to stop right underneath the chest, curving around the area of the ribs and exposing the entirety of the torso and stomach. 

The skirt is similarly colored, high-waisted, made of thicker fabric that’s also embroidered with similar illustrations like the matching top - it looks like it’s form fitting around his hips, long enough to maybe reach past his knees. 

The glaring difference to any skirt similar to this, is that the sides have slits to them, fabric held together by buckles that still show quite a bit of skin. Up until the middle of his thighs, it seems. 

“Wooyoungie, look at this!” San exclaims once he notices the clothes Hongjoong specifically made for Yunho (and if that thought alone isn’t enough to light Yunho’s insides on fire like ignited gasoline), “These are so fucking cool, Yunho!” 

_ “Mmmhm,” _ Yunho makes a strangled noise from the back of his throat. The clothes look expensive, cool, stylish and daring. He’s both shy and excited to wear them and parade them around, but, more importantly, a fire is already brewing at the bottom of his stomach at the thought of the married couple seeing him dressed like that. For  _ them. _

There’s another smaller box next to the clothes, containing a set of one pearl earring and a matching choker made of pearls and daisy charms. Instinctively, he reaches to touch the sole earring hanging from his right ear - had Hongjoong noticed that too? 

While his two friends look over the clothes (“Be careful how you touch them, don’t get them stained I’m _ begging  _ you!”), he reaches for the box containing his shoes - a pair of pvc leather boots with slim heels and square toes.

His phone pings with a text. 

_ I’m sorry I couldn’t talk much during our phone call. I hope you like the clothes - I’m sure they’ll look stunning on you. Seonghwa also wanted me to tell you that he was the one who chose the jewelry for you. We can’t wait to see you :) _

Without giving it much thought, Yunho changes the earring on his ear for the pearl one, clipping it in place with satisfaction. Then, he takes a close-up picture of his ear and the side of his cheek, and sends it back to Hongjoong. 

_ Everything is so beautiful, Hongjoong. Your clothes are beautiful and I’m very grateful! _

It only takes a few seconds before Hongjoong replies. 

_ Dumpling :)  _

“You look so red right now,” Wooyoung lets out a cackle, “Lucky little sugar baby, you know you’re so fucking spoiled, right?”

“Maybe…” Yunho murmurs, trying to hide his face in his ramen. 

Once they’re done with their dinner, Yunho proudly announces that he’s going to treat them this time - Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s money was spent on covering phone bills, and the rush of leftover cash was something he couldn’t resist. Plus, the looks on his friends’ faces are definitely worth it. 

  
  
  


♥

  
  


It’s Thursday evening, a day before the PR event, when Yunho gets a text from Seonghwa this time. At first, he doesn’t spare a glance to his vibrating cellphone, way too concentrated with having to figure out how the newly installed washing machines work in the shared laundromat of his dorms. 

With an empty basket held close to his hip and a substantial amount of laundry spinning away in the washing machine, Yunho finally checks his phone. 

_ Good evening Yunho. Are you too busy for a phone call? _

“Seonghwa?” Yunho says once the man answers the phone, panting as he climbs up the stairs with his empty basket, “Hi, good evening, no I’m not busy, what’s up?” Wooyoung doesn’t call him a puppy for no reason, after all. 

But despite Yunho’s welcoming tone of his voice, Seonghwa sounds oddly… detached,  _ “Yunho,” _ he says, reserved from the usual warmth he displays,  _ “Everything alright? Are you busy?”  _

It sounds like Yunho should be the one asking that question. 

“Yeah everything’s good. I’m done with classes for the day, just lazing around. Seonghwa...” Yunho replies, walking through the empty hallways of his buildings. It’s a quiet evening, one of the few nights without course work to finish. “Are you okay? You sound a bit… off.” 

_ “I-I,” _ he hears Seonghwa stutter, and he’s not sure why his heart freezes at the sound,  _ “Just having a bit of a weird night. If I’m not distracting you, or interrupting with anything… Would you like to come spend some time with me?” _ he pauses for a moment,  _ “Come over and watch a movie... or something like that…” _

As much as Yunho wants to lose himself in the possibilities of such a suggestion, Seonghwa’s voice sounds so sad and small that his first instinct is to do everything in his power to comfort him. 

“Of course, of course I can come over. Are you at your place alone?” 

He hears Seonghwa mumble affirmatively,  _ “Hongjoong’s coming back tomorrow morning. I already talked to him… he said it would be a nice idea to call you and spend some time with you. Instead of being just by myself.”  _

“It’s no problem, I want to come over,” Yunho assures him, “Really, Seonghwa. Not just because you’re asking me to, okay. I want to see you.” 

_ “Okay…”  _ Seonghwa sighs, sounding like he’s sniffling,  _ “I can send a car to pick you up. Is that okay with you?”  _

“That’s fine. I gave Ten my address yesterday…” 

_ “Great, okay, I’ll wait for you then. And Yunho,” _ Seonghwa takes a deep breath,  _ “Thank you. Thank you so much.”  _

“You have nothing to thank me for, Seonghwa. See you in a bit, okay?” 

_ “Mmm, okay.”  _

  
  
  


♥

  
  


Yunho gets a cryptic text from an unknown number saying  _ “Here~” _ half an hour later that makes him grab his bag and run down the stairs almost tripping on his ass twice. When he finally exits his dorm building, there’s a black Mercedes waiting for him right in front of the entrance, lights flashing to get his attention. 

Praying that he’s not about to get kidnapped, he’s ultimately relieved to see Ten waving at him from the driver’s seat. He giggles a little when he realizes the man is wearing his pajamas and soft headband with cat ears pushing his hair back. 

“I wasn’t going to send a random driver per Mr. Park’s request when I found out it was you, but I’m not going to change out of my pajamas either, so excuse the less than professional outfit.”

Yunho sits at the front seat, secretly wiggling his ass over the comfy, expensive leather seats. Ten puts on a playlist of soft pop songs and they begin their journey, the car rumbling as it takes off. Yunho leans his head against the window, and sighs. 

Five minutes later, the thought occurs to him to ask, “Uh, how far is it?” 

“About a forty minute ride,” Ten says. “You can sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up when it’s time.” 

Yunho wants to tell him that it’s not even seven o’ clock yet and he’s far from sleepy, but he’s dawned with the realization of the situation:  _ he’s going to visit Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house for the first time.  _

He looks at the sweatpants and hoodie he hastily put on. The cross-body bag he brought, carrying only the essentials. 

“H-hey, does Seonghwa like sweets?” 

Ten cocks his eyebrow, “Yeah.” 

“Can we stop by someplace around here? I just - I can’t go there empty-handed!” 

The man thinks about it for a moment, “I can take you to his favorite french patisserie. It should still be open at this hour, but we might have to rush, is that alright with you?” 

“Sure!” Yunho says anxiously, holding onto the sides of his seat when Ten hits the gas, the car rumbling as it revs up. 

The french patisserie ends up being ten minutes away, and Yunho rushes in so quickly that he doesn’t realize Ten has followed him in his pajamas and a pair of sunglasses. 

“He likes the cream-filled ones,” he helps him, pointing towards the section Yunho is supposed to look. 

Left alone in his devices, Yunho picks out a few chouquettes tropeziennes, a few vanilla flavored eclairs and a selection of fruity tartelettes. He asks the man at the cashier for pretty packaging and even pays for everything with his own money - paying for sugar-filled treats for his sugar daddy with the money his sugar daddies gave him, now that’s a mouthful. 

To his surprise, Ten has also bought something, “You’re not the only one with a date tonight,” he tells Yunho as they get into the car again, and Yunho remains silent for the remainder of the ride. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s house is situated in the outskirts of the city, right along the river, where the buildings get shorter compared to the skyscrapers of the centre, with luxurious pools and luscious gardens. The building Ten pulls up to looks more like a condo, instead of the big, expensive mansion he imagined. Still, Yunho can’t help but gasp at how expensive and well-kept everything looks around this neighborhood. 

Ten parks the car in front of the compound and leads Yunho to the main entrance, “It’s the penthouse at the top floor,” he tells him, “I’ve already sent him a text, so you won’t have to wait for him to buzz you in. And text me in case you’re not planning on staying the night. Have fun!” 

Yunho clutches onto the patisserie bags and mumbles a shy goodbye. He doesn’t wait to hear for the car pulling away before he’s rushing towards the elevator. It doesn’t take too long for him to reach the top floor, and he even shares it with a young woman who awkwardly but genuinely smiles at him and his bakery bag. Soon enough, he’s standing in front of Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s front door. 

Seonghwa immediately buzzes him in, “Hey, Yunho…” the man says - his face looks tired and kind of weary, but he looks like he’s honestly happy to see him. He’s wrapped in a thick-knitted cardigan that’s a few sizes too big for him and he’s wearing his round-framed glasses, pinkish eyes looking droopy behind them. “Glad you could make it. Don’t stand there, come inside, make yourself comfortable.” 

Yunho nods and takes his shoes off by the entrance - the penthouse is open and spacious, huge glass windows taking up the entire opposite wall, serving a gorgeous view of the cityscape at night and the river. It feels cozy and has similar decor to Seonghwa’s office, with vibrant colors on the walls, the couches, the pillows. There’s paintings on the walls and photographs of the couple together, some of which they had included on their  _ Nectar _ profile. It’s  _ lived-in. _ And it makes Yunho’s heart flutter. 

“These are for you,” he tells Seonghwa after following him in the couples’ well-equipped kitchen, presenting the patisserie bag. “Admittedly, Ten helped me pick out-” 

There’s no room for him to finish his sentence, because Seonghwa is already squishing him into a tight hug, face hiding in Yunho’s neck and arms wrapped around his waist. It’s a good thing he set down that bag on the counter, Yunho thinks while his hands tremble as they touch Seonghwa’s broad back, completing the hug, “H-hey-” 

_ “Darling,” _ Seonghwa lets out in one breath, voice shaky, “Oh, you’re so sweet. So, so sweet.” 

“I-it’s eclairs, and fruit tarts, and some cream puffs with a weird french name that I can’t remember-” is all Yunho can muster, until he surrenders into the hug in silence, patting Seonghwa’s back and rubbing it comfortingly, “Is everything okay? You uhm, you look a bit shaken up.” 

“Rough day, that’s all…” Seonghwa murmurs in his neck. 

“At work?” 

“No…” he sighs, “Everything’s fine with work. Just, family stuff. Sometimes it’s bad and sometimes it’s worse. Nothing important.” 

“I can’t be less than important if you’re shaken up like this…” 

Seonghwa just holds onto him tighter. 

“We-we don’t have to talk about anything. I’m not entitled to know any of your problems, or-or demand an explanation, Seonghwa, okay?” Yunho assures him, voice less than confident if he’s choosing the right words. 

“I’m not weak.” Seonghwa speaks up, slowly pulling away from the tight embrace but still keeping his hands around Yunho’s waist. “I can usually deal with stuff like this on my own. But, I talked with Hongjoong earlier… he could tell I was a bit shaken up, and he told me to call you. That he was sure I would feel better if I was with you. That you’d definitely find a way to have fun with me.” 

Yunho gives him an encouraging smile, “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? You said you wanted us to watch a movie?” 

Seonghwa clears his throat. He reaches up to rub his eyes behind his glasses, and Yunho’s heart twists, “I was about to make some pop-corn and grab a bottle of wine… but your pastries-” 

“We don’t have to eat them now-” 

“But I want to!” 

“Okay, so, sweets and popcorn?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Seonghwa says with a pout, sadness slowly leaving his face. 

Yunho chuckles at that, a soft  _ “cute” _ escaping his lips. 

The smile on Seonghwa’s lips is worth the embarrassment. 

They end up on the largest couch in the living-room, the one that’s stacked with pillows and even has a blanket to throw over themselves, the one that sits opposite of the big, sleek TV screen. Seonghwa places the wine in the champagne bucket to keep it cool and then brings freshly-made, buttery popcorn that makes the room smell like a cinema theatre. 

Yunho settles on the couch under the blanket and Seonghwa dims the lights, until only the screen and the reflection of the city lights on the glass windows are illuminating the room. They huddle close together, shoulders rubbing and knees bumping into each other. 

“Have you ever seen the Star Wars movies?” 

“No,” Yunho says casually, mouth full of popcorn. At Seonghwa’s glaring expression, he gulps the mouthful in fear, “What?” 

“You’ve never seen Star Wars? How have you missed out on the greatest franchise of this era’s cultural zeitgeist?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve just never seen them… Are you a fan?” Instead of responding, Seonghwa points to a specific area at the opposite wall - shelves of what Yunho assumes to be large models of spacecrafts and figurines of the series. “You’re a  _ big _ fan,” he concludes, smiling, “Wanna watch them now? I don’t mind…” 

“I was planning on watching the prequels, because even though they’re the worst in the series, they make me laugh. But now, if I show them to you, you’re going to think the entire series is like this, and that’s the sort of slander I won’t be able to tolerate-” 

“It’s fine,” Yunho laughs, “C’mon, you said they make you happy.” 

Seonghwa ends up putting on the first movie in the prequel saga - his commentary is prominent, but it doesn’t distract Yunho from the movie as much as the intense need he feels to cuddle up to him. As the movie plays on, the popcorns disappear and so do most of the patisserie sweets (which were delicious, Yunho thinks as he licks his fingers from the excess cream), and the two of them begin leaning closer to each other. 

It doesn’t help that there’s barely any action scenes - Yunho’s mind begins drifting to the way Seonghwa’s arms held him in his embrace, how they wrapped around his waist and squeezed him tightly. How he could feel the man’s breath near his throat, his nose tracing along the skin of his nape and his plush lips bumping into his collarbone as he spoke. 

Without realizing it, he’s taken Seonghwa’s hand into his underneath the blanket, threading their fingers together. 

Seonghwa stops mid-sentence explaining the race scene they’re about to watch, mouth parted open at the feeling of Yunho’s palm against his. Yunho refuses to take his eyes off the screen, but can’t help but squeeze Seonghwa’s hand, as if to confirm that he wants this. And so, Seonghwa continues. 

The movie drags on to the point where Yunho’s starting to get sleepy, both because of the wine and the food and because the movie is slow as hell. But Seonghwa’s voice is low and tickles his ears in the best kind of way, he thinks as he leans his head against Seonghwa’s shoulder while ignoring his inhibitions. 

“You seem better,” he whispers softly to Seonghwa, who’s stopped rambling in favor of consuming an eclair. “When I came here, you looked like you had been crying.” 

Seonghwa tightens his jaw, but doesn’t say anything.    
  


“I-I get that we don’t know each other that well. But the first day we met, you were there for me when I spoke to you two about the difficulties I was facing. What I’m saying is, you can lean on me too, right?” he turns to find Seonghwa already looking at him. His big eyes are full of stars, long black hair framing his face and making him look so much softer and younger than when he’s at work. “Both you and Hongjoong. I’m also here for you, not-not just the other way around. Okay?” 

Seonghwa gulps. And then he nods, face resembling a baby animal, and Yunho smiles. 

And then, Seonghwa leans up and presses their lips together. 

They’re _ soft _ , so soft as they kiss his lips, hands sneaking around Yunho’s waist to pull him closer and taking a deep breath, as if to dive deeper into this feeling, and _ fuck, _ Seonghwa kisses so well, Yunho thinks a whimper escapes him, but he doesn’t have enough time to dwell on that because Seonghwa takes a breath and kisses him again, their noses bumping into each other. 

When it’s finally over and Seonghwa pulls back, his plump lips look swollen and reddish. Yunho’s mouth feels like it’s even redder. 

“I- was that okay? I didn’t-” 

“It was okay, more than okay,” Yunho assures a panicked Seonghwa, “I…” he tries to form a coherent sentence, but he’s too overwhelmed, lips still numb from the foreign sensation of kissing Seonghwa. It feels like he’s stuck in limbo after finally reaching a culminating hill, and what he needs is some grounding. Without saying anything else, he hides his face in Seonghwa’s neck, holding onto him and silently begging for an embrace. 

When the pair of arms finally close around him and squeeze, Yunho sighs in relief. 

They don’t talk much after that for the remainder of the movie. They stay in this position, cuddling, and Seonghwa sometimes speaks up to explain things in the movie with short, whispery sentences, even though they both know Yunho hasn’t been following the plot for a while now. But it’s fine, it’s more than okay - it’s enough for them to sit like this together, enjoying each other’s presence. 

They don’t kiss anymore either; Yunho’s too shy to make a move, and Seonghwa simply presses his lips against his forehead a few times. And that’s enough, too. 

When the movie finally ends, it’s nearing midnight, “I-I have class in the morning,” Yunho mumbles, looking at the reminder on his phone, “‘N then, I have to get ready for the event-” 

Seonghwa’s hand comes up to stroke his hair, moving downwards to cup his cheek, and Yunho almost melts at the touch, “I’ll call for a driver to take you home. It’s very late, and even though Ten has an amazing work ethic I’m not going to wake him up and force him to leave his boyfriend in the middle of the night.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Thank you, Yunho,” Seonghwa tells him, holding his hand all the way to the front door of the penthouse once the driver arrives, “You have no idea how much it means to me that you came.” 

“I had fun,” Yunho assures him with a sleepy smile, mind still stuck to the way Seonghwa’s lips felt on his. Would it be too rash to ask for a goodnight kiss at the door? “I-I like you, Seonghwa.” 

“I like you too, Yunho,” Seonghwa says, cupping Yunho’s cheek, “Hongjoong likes you, too. So, so much.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Mmm,” Seonghwa mumbles, and gives him a soft kiss on the lips again. It’s like pulses of electricity through Yunho’s tired body, sparks flying into his stomach and waking him up, “Sleep well, okay? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” 

  
  
  


♥

  
  


Yunho stands in front of his dorm mirror and can’t help but gasp at the sight of himself. As Ten had predicted, this Friday afternoon it’s raining and thundering outside, but in Yunho’s room, there’s music playing from his phone and puffs of sweet perfume permeating the atmosphere. After rushing back from his morning class and taking a much needed nap - since he didn’t manage to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning after last night’s events - he’d quickly barged into Wooyoung’s dorm where his two friends were leisurely napping naked on the bed and borrowed Wooyoung’s curling iron. 

His fading pink hair has a poofy texture to it after styling it; there’s delicate rouge on his cheeks and lips and a shimmery glitter all over his lids. The necklace felt cold around his throat at first, but has now adapted to his body’s temperature, and, with the matching earring, decorate his upper body beautifully. 

But the real star of the show is the outfit Hongjoong specifically prepared for him - the top feels like second skin as it covers his upper torso and arms, resting just underneath his chest. The skirt begins after a generous part of his stomach is exposed, cinching around his waist so perfectly that renders Yunho amazed at Hongjoong’s spot-on measurements. 

Images of Hongjoong circling and holding his waist weeks before flood his brain, and Yunho shakes his head to concentrate. 

  
  


The exposed slits at the sides that are held together in a corset-like manner by the buckles is something he never thought he’d wear, but the more he walks around in it the more comfortable he feels. He likes his legs a lot - years of dancing and exercise have made them svelte and muscular and strong. He hopes that Seonghwa and Hongjoong will appreciate them too. The heels are fairly easy to walk around in, too. 

Yunho’s knees are trembling with excitement. 

When he finally gets a text that they’ve arrived outside, he strolls down the stairs with his heels clicking against the floor, feeling multiple eyes turning towards him as he takes each step. The attention feels like he’s lit a matchstick on fire and keeps holding onto it, waiting until the flame touches his skin. 

The Mercedes is waiting for him at the entrance, and he quickly enters the backseat before the rain manages to soak him. 

Ten sits at the driver’s seat, and Seonghwa sits at the front too. 

“You look  _ breath-taking, _ ” he hears Hongjoong’s voice coming from next to him. 

And Hongjoong’s one to talk - the man has styled his dark mullet all dishevelled loose, dark shadow and kohl lining his eyes and black lipstick on his lips. He’s wearing a two-piece deep purple suit that lays open with seemingly nothing underneath other than the faintest hint of a dark, lacy bralette. 

Yunho cannot  _ think, _ let alone speak. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Seonghwa agrees in a low voice. When Yunho turns to look at him, he finds that he cannot see much of his outfit since the man is sitting at the front, but his hair is tied up in a ponytail exposing his undercut, with a few strands framing his face and his dark brows. 

The car starts and Yunho just barely manages to buckle his seat-belt before there’s a hand gently turning his head back.

“Wha-” he begins to say, but Hongjoong smothers his words in a deep kiss before he can say anything else. 

This time, it’s electric, a fire that’s been building up in his loins finally letting her flames consume him. Hongjoong’s lips are soft like Seonghwa’s but he doesn’t wait for Yunho to catch up, almost enjoying leaving him breathless and panting more as they kiss, and there’s the slightest hint of Hongjoong’s tongue poking at the entrance of his lips, and  _ fuck _ he can’t help but whine at the hand that sneaks up on his thigh to caress the exposed skin under his skirt as Hongjoong’s painted, sharp nails dig into the softness that’s there. 

When Hongjoong finally pulls back, Yunho almost slams his head against the car seat from the intensity of the kiss that’s left him numb and needy. His hand traces Yunho’s bottom lip with a satisfied smile. 

“It’s a good thing this liquid lipstick is kissproof, don’t you think?” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @milkytae12 <3


End file.
